


We're Not Just Dreamers (We're The Kind That Comprehend)

by exocinematicuniverse



Series: Dreamers [1]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alien Byun Baekhyun, Alien Kim Jongin | Kai, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Cryptid Taemin, Dancer Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, Film Major Taeyong, Gen, MAMA Era Powers (EXO), Office Worker Lucas, Student Kim Jongin | Kai, Student Taeyong, Student Ten, Techie Mark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22811140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exocinematicuniverse/pseuds/exocinematicuniverse
Summary: Several young men are drawn together by shared visions of a stranger.--The audience...well, Taeyong, who was the only member of the audience as of that moment, stared down the barrel of the gun in Red Taeyong’s hand, as the music gradually distorted.Taeyong blinked hard. Audience Taeyong, that is. Real life Taeyong. He didn’t remember distorting the audio like that, and as he frowned and leaned forward in his seat, concerned that maybe he forgot to edit something out, the screen went black. The gun clicked as it usually did.Then the screen cut to a green room Taeyong had never seen in his life. Strange contraptions dangled from the ceiling, and an old reel-to-reel audio recording device sat on a metal table. A strange blond man in black pants and a white sleeveless shirt leaned against the far left end of the table.And then the piece came to an abrupt end.--Based on the SuperM trailer videos. Because SM Entertainment will never fully deliver on the concept they've given us. Title is from Gerard Way's "Maya the Psychic."Update as of December 1st 2020: ON A PLOTTING HIATUS!!! Will hopefully return before the end of the year!
Series: Dreamers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704955
Comments: 48
Kudos: 45





	1. TAEYONG

To say Thursday afternoon began normally for Taeyong would be only somewhat incorrect. It wasn’t every week that one gets the chance to run a massive multimedia exhibit in a university’s art museum. At the moment, Taeyong was working incredibly hard to not look like a chicken with its head cut off, strolling from one gallery to the next, giving each wall and floor a once-over—making sure all the labels were all correct, the arrangements were right, no lights were burnt out, and a million more nit-picky concerns that eventually got him shooed away by the student staff members. 

Last time he ran a show in a nearby gallery, a few lights went out while people were walking around the exhibit, and while no one else seemed to care, he kept kicking himself over it. He should have known something like that could happen. The gallery owners kept insisting that it was a freak incident; there’s something like a one in a million chance of a quarter of your lights going out on opening night, and no one could possibly blame him for such a strange occurrence. The experience still made him paranoid. 

Suffice it to say, Taeyong was relieved to find everything in order at the museum an hour before opening. And he had saved the best gallery for last: the tiny theater reserved for a short film showcase, which included his one personal contribution to the exhibit. 

He glanced around to make sure that he was completely alone. Everyone was working hard to avoid him or hurry him out of their galleries, so he doubted anyone would bother him for a little while. But just in case, he flipped the deadbolt on the door behind him. He let out a sigh and focused hard on wanting the lights dimmed...wishing _just one person_ could be there to help him out with the projection booth…give him a hand and start the equipment up for him… 

“I’m on it!” a cheery voice exclaimed just a few feet away. Taeyong opened his eyes and smiled back at a twin image of himself through the open door to the projection booth. 

He let himself sink into a chair in the middle of the audience as the house lights dimmed, easing him into only the kind of peace he could find in a dark movie theater. He realized he was bone-tired and the evening hadn’t even really begun. Invoking his duplicity definitely hadn’t helped that, but he knew he could ask one of the dance students arriving in a half hour to pick up an iced coffee for him if he needed it. 

The screen illuminated the room as the short film reel began. 

Taeyong should have been exhausted by this piece by now based on how long he’d slaved away over it in an editing bay on the other side of campus, but something about the big screen was hypnotic. His eyelids grew heavy and the tension in his shoulders melted away into the velvet seat beneath him. 

Black. White. Grey. On the screen, Taeyong lay unconscious on a small patch of grass. He was dressed in a loose-fitting sweater, blazer, and slacks. Several chunky rings adorned his fingers, and a wiry necklace resembling a dreamcatcher hung loosely around his neck.

The setting was a church of sorts with a neon altar at the far wall. The subject of the film roused himself from his slumber. A hard cut took the audience momentarily to another version of him standing at a distance and out of focus, suggesting maybe a memory of having been in this place before...or maybe the presence of someone else there with him.

The image bloomed into full color—greens and teals were accented with shocks of electric blue. The bright red altar and its glowing sun framed Taeyong’s head like a halo as he turned towards the audience and rose to his feet. Choppy cuts between takes of him turning and rising distorted any sense of fluid motion or time. Taeyong, now lit with a low red light to match the altar behind him, stumbled toward the camera with a gun at his side.

A Taeyong illuminated with green light woke up on the grass. 

A stray shot of Taeyong bathed in white light holding a red cat's cradle interrupted the sequence. Another grey shot followed it: a movie screen behind him displayed a strange and incomprehensible picture...maybe boiling water, maybe a windy flower field, maybe film being destroyed—hard to tell in the two seconds it remained on screen. 

The Taeyong bathed in red light aimed the gun lazily down at the newly awakened Taeyong in green. 

It was all supposed to be some commentary on art and the self with some personal imagery thrown around in it that only close friends of his would notice.

The audience...well, Taeyong, who was the only member of the audience as of that moment, stared down the barrel of the gun in Red Taeyong’s hand, as the music gradually distorted. 

Taeyong blinked hard. Audience Taeyong, that is. Real life Taeyong. He didn’t remember distorting the audio like that, and as he frowned and leaned forward in his seat, concerned that maybe he forgot to edit something out, the screen went black. The gun clicked as it usually did. 

Then the screen cut to a green room Taeyong had never seen in his life. Strange contraptions dangled from the ceiling, and an old reel-to-reel audio recording device sat on a metal table. A strange blond man in black pants and a white sleeveless shirt leaned against the far left end of the table.

And then the piece came to an abrupt end. 

And a sharp rap at the theater door snapped Taeyong awake. 

“Taeyong?” a familiar voice called from outside. “What are you getting up to in there, hmm? Stop being a recluse and come out here. I need an audience for our last rehearsal.” 

Taeyong spun around and made panicked eye contact with his double in the projection booth. With a snap of his fingers, he felt the other part of his consciousness return to him in a rush. He let out a long sigh and shuffled back to the theater door. He’d somehow fallen asleep and missed the latter half of his private screening. Oh well. It was his film and his exhibit. He could always come back later. 

Upon opening the door, he was met with a too-close and smirking friendly face.

“Sorry, Ten. Just wanted a moment alone to review the film reel one more time—”

“I’m glad you got your nap in. I brought you coffee.”

An iced coffee made exactly how Taeyong liked it found its way into his hands as he was dragged across the museum towards the dance exhibit. His mind was still a little foggy. He definitely had to go back later to double-check the reel and make sure he had actually dreamt everything he’d just seen. Who the hell was that guy at the end of his dream? Taeyong wished he’d gotten a better look at his face. Something about him seemed familiar… 

The hand holding his coffee was suddenly guided towards his face. Taeyong laughed quietly to himself before taking a sip of his drink. Ten was a saint—he always seemed to know exactly what Taeyong needed before he could even consider asking for anything; he was the kind of friend Taeyong desperately needed in this last semester of his stint in undergrad. 

Ten was a pretty boy, for lack of a better term. He was a slim young man, a little shorter than average, with an incredible talent in contemporary ballet and modern dance and an intuition better than anyone Taeyong had ever met in his life. At the current moment, he was dressed in loose-fitting tan pants and a wrinkled white t-shirt. He held a pair of black lace-up boots in the hand that wasn’t dragging Taeyong into the performing arts gallery. His short wine-red hair was styled back and out of his face and the silver ring he always wore on his index finger dug into Taeyong’s wrist as he tugged him into a seated position on a bench near the edge of the thin dance mat covering most of the gallery floor. 

“Okay, man, I need you to be awake and present for this one,” Ten nagged from across the room. Taeyong nodded and sipped his coffee as the other dancers got into position. There were six of them in total, and Taeyong figured he could only remember the names of about half of them. Ten had way too many friends, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that Taeyong could keep track of all of them. Chances were, however, that if on any given day a beautiful man or woman with impeccable posture ran up to Taeyong on campus and addressed him by name like they had met a hundred times before, they were probably one of Ten’s friends. 

Ten counted the dancers off and they began their run-through. Later, there would be live music for their main performance, but for now Ten’s increasingly breathless voice would have to do the job. 

Taeyong didn’t really know how to describe dance. He knew how to watch it and how to take meaning and emotion away from it; he knew how to immerse himself in the experience and understand what was happening. The moment he was ever asked to talk about it, however, he was screwed. He wouldn’t have survived pursuing a double major in dance with anything higher than a 2.5 cumulative GPA. He had just barely completed a minor with the incredible amount of help he received from his classmates. Specifically Ten. The man was a lifesaver. 

The run-through ended and Taeyong applauded enthusiastically. Ten immediately turned around to give notes, allowing Taeyong’s wandering eyes a chance to triple-check the labels on the art pieces behind him. The combination of focusing on the dance and drinking half a cup of coffee had effectively shaken off the drowsy haze from earlier. 

“Earth to Taeyong,” a voice said right next to him, causing him to jump at least an embarrassing half inch into the air. Ten stood next to him with a performative look of irritation on his face. Taeyong smiled and took a sip of his coffee.

“Any notes on the performance?” Ten asked with a tone that conveyed exceedingly low expectations.

“You all had really good face the whole time!” Taeyong said to the rest of the dancers in the room. “And your spacing was outstanding from this angle. I think I chose the right hanging pieces for this room based on what you guys are doing. Great work.”

Ten sighed and rolled his eyes. He smiled, though.

“Alright, that’ll do.” He waved at the dancers and added, “Go do whatever. Be back here at six thirty. Don’t let your feet get too dirty!”

“Put on some shoes yourself, then!” One of the dancers teased back at him. Taeyong...should have known that one’s name; he was a grad student TA for one of Taeyong’s Dance History classes. He was also one of the people who came with Ten to Taeyong’s last exhibit—the one with the light malfunction. 

Ten grumbled, “Fine,” and picked his boots up off the ground like it was a painful task. The dancers laughed at him as they went their separate ways. The grad student approached the two of them. _Oh shit oh fuck what was his name_ —

“Don’t tell me you have no place better to be for the next forty minutes, Jongin.”

 _RIGHT._ Kim Jongin. That was it. Ten shot Taeyong a knowing look. Taeyong responded with a sheepish smile. 

“I wanted to ask Taeyong when I should stop by the theater to see his video,” Jongin said without sparing Ten a glance.

“The short film reel starts over every half hour,” Taeyong replied, “and mine is at the very beginning.”

Jongin flashed him a quick thumbs-up and muttered a “thanks” before leaving the gallery. 

Ten braced himself against Taeyong’s shoulder as he tugged his shoes back on. 

“Come on,” Ten said, his tone less teasing than before, “let’s walk around and look at your good work.”

“Well I only made the film—”

“You pulled a whole exhibit together, Tae, take the damn compliment.” 

Taeyong grinned as he drained the last of his coffee with a horrible slurping noise.

“Yeah. I suppose I did do that.”

Ten tugged on Taeyong’s arm until he rose to his feet. 

“Come on, I know the abstract painting gallery’s your secret favorite right now. Let’s go.”


	2. LUCAS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He received a text message from his supervisor saying that he didn’t need to be at work until an hour later. Hope this reaches you in time. Lucas rolled his eyes and let out a quiet groan. He took off his jacket, stashed it in a desk drawer, and set an alarm for thirty minutes. He made the best pillow he could out of his arms and settled in for a nap. 
> 
> Instantly, he slipped into a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Got to be good looking 'cause he's so hard to see."

Lucas’ day, on the other hand, began just like any other work day. His alarm woke him up at 6:45 AM sharp. He pulled himself out of bed and got out the door, hard boiled egg and travel mug in hand, at 7:20 and caught the bus at 7:30. Glimpsing the sunrise over the city every day was a great perk in this dreadful early morning routine. The bus lurched to a stop a block away from his office and Lucas squeezed himself past all the other sardine-packed morning commuters to get out before the doors could shut on him. He hurried into the office, despite knowing how early he was, and caught the elevator. 

This was why Lucas got here early every morning -- a quick moment of relief in an elevator with no more than two other people. He hit the 4 button and took a long drink from his oversteeped tea in the peace and quiet. Entirely too soon, the elevator  _ pinged _ and the doors opened at his floor. He trudged out into the sea of workspaces and sat down at his desk. 

At that exact moment, he received a text message from his supervisor saying that he didn’t need to be at work until an hour later.  _ Hope this reaches you in time. _ Lucas rolled his eyes and let out a quiet groan. He took off his jacket, stashed it in a desk drawer, and set an alarm for thirty minutes. He made the best pillow he could out of his arms and settled in for a nap. 

Instantly, he slipped into a dream.

Lucas stood outside the company elevator in the lobby. Everyone else around him piled into the elevator, but as he took a step forward, something caught his attention. There was something above him… watching? Listening? 

Waiting.

The doors began to shut and he knew he had to slip inside quickly. As was always the case, no one paid him any mind. It was like he was invisible. Everyone else chatted amongst themselves. People entered and exited the elevator around him as he travelled… neither up nor down. The numbers that flashed above the floor buttons made no sense. 

He knew something was watching him still; it was listening through the ventilation fan in the ceiling. The knowledge was like a siren song, daring him to travel deeper into the building. Eventually, he found himself alone in the elevator. 

The small room suddenly lurched into motion without any provocation from Lucas. Something guided him down into the depths of the company building.

_ Waiting. _ Something was absolutely waiting for him down there. 

The elevator doors opened once again and he was faced with a hall of mirrors. At the far end, another stainless steel elevator door awaited him. Lucas stepped as calmly as possible out of the elevator and into the strange hall. The lights on the ceiling came to life as his dress shoes clicked against the clean white floor. The hallway was relatively narrow, but the parallel mirrors gave the illusion of infinite space...and infinite company. Lucas slowed his steps as he became momentarily hypnotized by his never ending, ever repeating reflection. 

He eventually came to a halt at the far end of the hall and waited for the lights to time out in his stillness. A cool energy swept through him as he focused on going undetected. The only thing that was allowed to know he was here was waiting past that elevator, and surely another short distance after that. He could sense every motion detector for lights, every security measure around him that he shouldn’t have known about, and he knew if he thought hard enough about it, he could bypass all of them. 

He took a seat in the hall and focused; on what, he wasn’t too sure yet. He stared at his reflections, and the sight made his vision swim for a moment. It felt like something else was staring back at him through his reflection’s eyes. The seemingly infinite chain then transformed into another vision altogether. 

A strange blond man in a room with green walls carefully turned a dial on a machine Lucas could not identify. The man’s bright blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the equipment in front of him. Lucas was suddenly plagued by a pounding headache that started out easy to ignore but grew increasingly worse as the man’s dial turned towards lower numbers. A pressure built on his eardrums until he thought for sure they would pop… 

Lucas snapped out of the vision and rose to his feet once again. The lights turned on around him as he re-entered the elevator he had arrived on. Another day, then. He would have to wait just a little while longer. More answers were surely to come. 

He was jarred awake by the sound of a heavy box hitting the desk next to him with ten minutes left before his alarm was supposed to go off. Lucas squinted up at the man standing at the typically empty desk next to his. He was just below average height, blond, and wore a white jacket over a grey sweater, dark-wash jeans, and black boots. A company ID hung from a lanyard around his neck; the first name was all that he could read from his position -- Mark. 

“Oh! I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

Lucas jumped at the sound of the man’s voice. It would be weird to admit it out loud, but he wasn’t exactly used to people just talking to him unprompted. He was just easy to ignore, apparently. 

“Uh...no worries,” Lucas grumbled. “Are you moving in here? Nobody mentioned…”

“They didn’t?” The new guy sounded genuinely shocked. “Ahh. Sorry, man. I’m from IT. A pipe burst on our part of our floor so now I guess it’s the W-E-T department.” He laughed at his own joke, and Lucas felt himself cracking a smile against his better judgement. 

The new guy continued: “Anyway, we’re all getting scattered around the building for the next few weeks. So I guess we’re neighbors now.” 

Lucas nodded. The pipe burst must have happened earlier this morning. Maybe that had something to do with his supervisor wanting him to come in later. 

“My name’s Mark,” the new guy said, holding out a hand.

Lucas shook the offered hand and replied with his own name. 

Introductions now out of the way, they each went about their respective tasks for the morning. Mark hummed quietly to himself as he pulled items out of his box and arranged them on his desk. Lucas gathered files for a meeting and pulled his jacket back on. He rose from his seat and turned to leave when Mark let out a noise. 

“Hooo, dude! Where did you get  _ that _ ?” Mark exclaimed.

“Where did I get what?” Lucas asked.

“What else? That jacket! I love it.” Lucas looked down at his leopard print blazer and suddenly remembered that not everyone dressed like him. At some point in his life, he realized that the only way to keep people from ignoring him was to dress a little on the outrageous side. People never really commented on his fashion sense to his face, but they certainly couldn’t forget about him this way. 

“Oh uh…” Lucas thought for a moment before saying, “I think it was at a thrift shop near one of the richer neighborhoods. I find a lot of my stuff out that way.”

“Dude, you gotta get me the name of that place.”

“Sure thing,” Lucas replied, amused. 

Sitting through his morning meeting was incredibly boring. The PR department was essentially reviewing plans that had already been made so that everyone was on the same page, and Lucas really didn’t need to be there unless someone needed a second or third person to explain the same thing over again. They were starting a new social media campaign to “reach today’s youth,” and Lucas was the one who would be formatting, posting, and managing the social media pages, along with a bit of graphic design and video editing on the side. He would also be handling translations for all of those into a couple other languages. 

Naturally, his mind wandered. He thought back to his dream, that morning, which had stuck with him longer than dreams normally did. He scribbled out a summary of what he’d seen in his meeting notes and did his best to sketch out the strange mirror hall and elevator door. Portraits and people weren’t his strong suit when it came to drawing, but he could recreate the man in the green room well enough that future-Lucas would know how everything was supposed to look. There was something about him…had they met? Why did he still feel the pull to follow this stranger down into the lower levels of the building?

Lucas wasn’t normally one for following sudden impulses, but when the meeting wrapped and everyone went their separate ways, he realized he didn’t have much to do until he got the marketing department’s video and audio files. That surely wouldn’t happen until after lunch time. Lucas had plenty of time to wander.

So that was what he planned to do. He took his files back to his desk, took off his gaudy jacket, and turned to leave when he saw the absolute mayhem that was Mark’s desk setup. The man had a monstrous, strangely-constructed computer, a few crates full of wires and adapters, a color-changing LED light in the shape of a Super Mario Mushroom, and a collection of memes on printer paper posted haphazardly around his workspace. The man seemed to have a bit of a fixation on the Lucky Luciano “had to do it to ‘em” meme -- there were even variations Lucas had never seen before. 

Mark flicked a piece of carefully folded paper at Lucas from the far end of his desk.

“Go long!”

Lucas caught the paper after an embarrassing fumble. He raised a confused eyebrow at Mark. Mark waved his hands as if to say, “go on -- take a closer look.” Lucas unfolded it and was incredibly disappointed to find a hand making an OK gesture inside it. Mark laughed unashamedly from his cluttered desk. Lucas rolled his eyes and set the tiny paper down on his keyboard. 

“I’m gonna go...not be here for a little bit.”

“Aww, sorry. I can keep to myself more if-” Mark started.

“No, no. Don’t worry. I just need to stretch my legs.”

_ You have no idea that this means war, little man _ , Lucas thought to himself. 

Lucas stepped into the elevator he rode every morning and looked over the buttons. At the bottom of the array was a keycard slot and another single button labelled B1. Were they restricted basement levels? Lucas tested the B1 button; it illuminated only as long as he touched it, and the elevator stayed put. He pulled his ID card from his pocket and inserted it, knowing it probably wouldn’t do anything for him. 

He pressed the button with the card in the reader. Nothing. 

He tried inserting the card and quickly pulling it like a hotel door key card. No such luck. 

Oh well. It was worth a try. He reached his hand out again to press the button to take him down to the lowest level he could reach without special permission. He was a little slow to act, however, and felt the elevator take him upwards first. The elevator took him up several floors -- farther up than Lucas had ever explored in the building before now. Its doors opened to reveal one of the company executives waiting on the other side, chatting on the phone. The sharply dressed man stepped inside without sparing Lucas a glance, hit the Lower Lobby button, and carried on with his conversation. 

“Yes, I’m on my way now. My connection might fade in a moment, though, so be patient with me if I make you repeat some stuff.” 

Silence. They passed by Lucas’ floor.

“What do you mean, ‘take a look at the readings?’ I can’t make heads or tails of that stuff. I’d need to be up all night researching if I wanted to ‘just take a look’ at them.”

More silence. Lucas was wondering if this man had even noticed that he had company.

“Just help a guy out, yeah?”

The man paused to listen again. They passed by Lucas’ floor.

“So if this is all different from the normal stuff you see, is it good? Is it bad? Do we know what it entails at all?” 

Another pause.

“Bad. Okay. Next time could you please lead with that? Cut the anticipation out. I’m not gonna get mad unless you personally did something uncleared by us to provoke this.” 

They descended past the Lobby, and Lucas was beginning to worry that something might be wrong within the company. Was this important executive business or was the pipe burst in the IT department really bad?

The doors opened at the Lower Lobby, but the man did not exit the elevator. He glanced around at the executives-only parking garage outside the door and hit the button to close the doors again. Lucas watched with wide eyes as the man stuck his own ID card in the slot next to the door and pressed the button Lucas had investigated just a couple minutes ago. The man absolutely had not realized he had company with him. Lucas felt his ears and cheeks blush as anxiety kicked his heart rate up a notch.

The elevator buzzed for a moment and descended one floor further. The doors opened once again...to face a hallway with mirrors on either wall. The man scoffed at his phone, muttered something about a shitty connection, and hung up his call. He activated a series of motion-sensitive lights as he stepped out of the elevator and walked towards the stainless steel door just about ten meters away from where Lucas stood, back pressed against the wall farthest from this man’s destination. The elevator doors slid shut in front of Lucas at what felt like a snail’s pace, and he finally let out a massive breath wasn’t aware he’d been holding. His chest hurt and his head swam for a moment as his mind reeled. 

What the hell did he just see?

How had he dreamt of a place he’d never been?

Most importantly, what was he supposed to do with this new knowledge? 

Lucas stood still inside the elevator until it was called back up to the lobby. A few chattering young women piled inside with bags of food. Lucas couldn’t even hear what they said over the sound of his own thoughts. He just hit the button for his floor and waited until he could exit. 

Immediately after leaving the elevator, Lucas ducked into the men’s restroom to splash a little water on his face and get his breathing back to normal. 

The only obvious conclusion from all of this was that he needed to keep it to himself, at least for the foreseeable future. There wasn’t really anyone he could confide in about this. Any other employee would probably either brush it off or rat him out to someone from the executive floors. Maybe he should just try to sleep on it -- forget it, even. 

Yeah. Maybe he’d just try to forget the whole thing. What a strange experience! Definitely not worth looking into any further. Lucas wasn’t the kind of person to just poke a sleeping bear out of curiosity. He was a rational kind of guy -- a little goofy sometimes, but absolutely able to keep his head on his shoulders and not cause an excessive amount of trouble. 

Lucas took a deep and calming breath, checked to make sure he didn’t look like he’d just had a short-lived panic attack, and returned to his desk. Mark was exactly where he had left him about fifteen minutes ago. The man tugged his wireless headphones off and let them hang around his neck as he looked up at Lucas with a pitiful expression. 

“Hey, man, I can totally like...just shut up and let you work anytime. Just say the word.”

Lucas waved his hand and shook his head.

“No worries. I don’t have anything I need to get done right away.”

“You sure?” Mark asked. “I can make it up to you by...I don’t know, grabbing some coffee from the break room for you?”

Lucas, realizing the opportunity at hand, hummed contemplatively and replied, “How about this. If they still have chamomile in the tea basket in there, could you make me a cup?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Mark eagerly rose from his seat and took off for the break room. As soon as he left, Lucas snatched the dumb meme off his own desk, wrote Mark’s name on the back of it, and tucked it under the man’s light-up gaming keyboard. 

It was only after he sat down at his own desk again that he realized how close of attention Mark seemed to pay to him, regardless of what he wore or how he acted. Lucas didn’t have to initiate every conversation. The guy was really friendly. Hopefully he’d stay that way and not veer too far into annoying. Lucas might not have much work to do for the next hour or so, but that would cease to be the case as soon as he got his files from the company videographer. 

Mark scurried back with a paper cup in each hand and a satisfied grin plastered on his face. 

“Here, neighbor. One cup of chamomile tea, piping hot.” 

Lucas nodded his thanks and raised the cup to his face. Mark held out a hand and waved it in warning. 

“Wait, when I say piping hot I mean it. That thing’s gonna melt your face off if you drink it now.”

Lucas carefully placed the cup down on his desk by his travel mug. Mark sat down and gently blew on his drink in a desperate attempt to make it cool faster. 

“I should invent something,” Mark muttered, “to make drinks cool faster. Like a reverse microwave.”

“Ice?” Lucas suggested.

Mark shook his head.

“That waters down the drink, though.”

“A refrigerator?”

Mark frowned and let out an uncertain hum. 

“Freezable fruit shapes,” Lucas suggested.

“Awful,” Mark replied. “I love it. I’m gonna buy some. Or make some. Whichever is cheapest.”

Lucas resisted the urge to laugh at his new neighbor as he put his headphones back on and continued to blow on his coffee. This could turn out to be the start of a nice friendship. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts? Even if your head's empty, drop me a line either in the comments section here or on tumblr at exocinematicuniverse! 
> 
> _Do you have any ice?_   
>  _No, I just have freezable fruit shapes._   
>  _Why?_   
>  _Just because._


	3. KAI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai woke up on the cool pavement of a parking lot. The sky above him was dark, and he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "This one goes out to my closest friends  
> The ones who make me feel less alien"

Kai woke up on the cool pavement of a parking lot. The sky above him was dark, and he was alone. A light flickered on and off at the edge of his vision. He rose to his feet and approached the lamp post, his body still heavy from sleep. As he stood in the pool of light, he finally seemed to shake the fog from his mind long enough to realize where he was. This was the top of a parking garage near… well, maybe he couldn’t remember exactly where he was, but he knew he’d been there before.

He wandered away from the light, hoping to gather more clues as to where he was. Looking over the edge of the garage did nothing to help. All he could tell was that the lights on top of the garage appeared to be the only functioning street lights as far as he could see. The nearby blocks were dark, and no cars were on the road. It was an eerie sight, to say the least.

Something crashed onto the pavement far behind him, and he spun around to look for the source. Small fires had broken out around the site of a totalled car. That absolutely had not been there just a moment ago. Kai approached the wreckage to see if there was anyone inside. 

The car was empty. It really had just appeared out of nowhere. Kai looked around frantically, trying to make any sense of the situation. The only way this car could have crashed like this was if it… 

Kai slowly looked up at the night sky.

It was full of slowly falling cars and machine parts. The sight made him stop and stare in confusion. He’d never seen this phenomenon on Earth in all the years he’d spent here. What could possibly cause… 

Belatedly, he realized that one was headed directly for him and, in a flash of panic, teleported out of its way. When he opened his eyes, he expected to see the rooftop of a neighboring building. What he saw instead was a room with bright blue walls, and a set of long white stairs leading up to a cluster of machines. On one of the top steps, a beautiful young blond man with piercing blue eyes lounged as if he was waiting for something. He turned his head slowly and stared directly at Kai. Those unblinking eyes felt like they could see directly into Kai’s soul. 

Kai sat bolt upright in bed and shuddered. After a moment of scanning the room for the strange man, he realized he’d been dreaming. Was that a nightmare? He was becoming more human with each passing day. He glanced at his bedside clock and sighed. He’d overslept, too. 

Kai pulled himself out of bed and dragged himself past a couple small piles of laundry on the floor, photos and hand-scribbled notes tacked onto the walls, and the mess that was his desk to gather his things for the day. He tugged on a set of workout clothes, quickly brushed his teeth, and tamed his hair before hurrying out the door. He tried not to think about the sleepless bruises that were making a possible long-term home under his eyes. 

It took only about twenty minutes to walk from his apartment to the performance arts building on campus. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, already knowing who was on the other line. Life would be so much easier if he could just reliably teleport places without anyone seeing him. Unfortunately, he’d decided to settle down in a large city for a few years to earn some money, pay for a degree, and get some experience living among modern day humans. It was worth it. He just had to force himself to relearn some patience. 

Ten was there early, as always. The man had such short travel times between places that early in their friendship Kai had momentarily suspected that he could somehow also teleport. But no, he was just an ace at navigating the best route anywhere in any mode of transportation. He once told Kai that he hated the unpredictability of public transit, so he relied on his own legs and his bicycle more often than anything else. The man always fast-walked like his life depended on it, no matter how far he needed to go or how fast he really needed to be there. 

“Morning, Jongin,” Ten called out in a sing-song voice from his place on the floor, already partway through his warm up. 

“Good morning,” Kai replied after a pause. He often forgot to respond to the fake name he’d given himself back when he moved to the city. Sure, “Kai” was a decent name among humans, but he didn’t want anyone who knew him by that name to find him easily, so an alias had seemed necessary. 

“Answer your phone once in a while, why don’t you?” Ten teased as he rose to his feet. “Come on. Put some music on so we can get our blood pumping.”

“Mmhm. Let me see what I can do.” Kai crossed the room to the stereo system and put a playlist on shuffle. He just wanted to get his mind off all aspects of his life outside his obligation to help Ten with his thesis project. Back home, he had a lot of work left to do, but hopefully that could wait until later. 

He stretched and warmed up for a few minutes while Ten walked through his choreography, occasionally mumbling to himself. Kai rose to his feet, changed the music, and turned to face Ten.

“Ready for a run-through?” he asked. Ten nodded and got into position at the center of the room. The original track Ten made with a friend earlier in the semester began with plucked strings and built into a beautiful fusion of acoustic traditional instruments and synthesized sounds. In the final dance video, he would be surrounded by a few back up dancers, but he was so worried about perfecting his part of the dance that he had arranged to get some extra coaching from Kai for a few weeks. 

Ten danced beautifully, though. His body control was outstanding, and his spatial awareness was impeccable. It was so easy to dance in a group with him, too, which was how he and Kai had originally met. The professor Kai assisted a year ago had asked him to stand in for a student who had to drop out due to illness, and Kai was more than happy to help. Ten had promptly volunteered to help him learn the choreography in the last couple days before the show. 

Immediately after that first performance, Ten had pulled Kai aside, snatched his phone, and said, “We’ll be working together again in the near future, and I figured you’d need my number.” Kai had just rolled with it, far from upset by the prospect of dancing with Ten again. 

“How was that?” 

Kai pulled himself back to the present. Ten stood still in the middle of the room as he caught his breath and watched Kai expectantly. 

“Great,” Kai answered. “Just a couple of notes here and there. Get a drink first, though.”

Ten nodded and grabbed his water bottle from the edge of the marley-style floor. Kai strolled out to the middle of the floor and walked through a few steps to make sure he could explain it all properly. His body seemed to disagree with most of what he wanted to do; maybe he slept in a strange position the night prior. He straightened up and stretched a little bit more before trying the move again. 

“You’re gonna pull something. Stop that.” Ten swatted Kai’s shoulder and gave him an appraising look. “What’s up with you today?” 

“I got terrible sleep last night,” Kai admitted. 

“Sure you’re feeling up to this?” Ten cooed and frowned. “It’s okay if you aren’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kai replied, avoiding eye contact. Ten didn’t press him further even though he looked like he wanted to. He made a gesture for Kai to take the floor.

“You keep anticipating difficult parts, so a couple easier steps are being neglected…”

Kai helped Ten clean up a few parts of the choreography for about forty minutes before they both had to take a break. They only had the space for a little bit longer, so they tried to keep it short, but Kai was struggling to catch his breath a little more than usual. 

“Go ahead and run through it again while I’m over here,” Kai said, pulling up a chair. He always hated having to sit down during rehearsal time. His muscles would cool off and tighten a bit, and he’d have to spend extra time loosening back up.

Ten ran through the entire piece again, and Kai honestly couldn’t find anything wrong with it. That definitely had very little to do with his wandering mind and the fact that one of the lights went out in the middle of the rehearsal. Admittedly, he had snuck a few glances out the large windows behind Ten and missed a part of the dance that he knew Ten was great at. But Ten definitely had the majority of his somewhat divided attention.

Ten approached Kai, water bottle in hand, and sat down on the floor in front of his chair. 

“How was it?”

“Outstanding, honestly. Nothing new to say. I really want to see it with your other dancers sometime soon.” 

Ten hummed and nodded. He took another swig of water and caught Kai’s gaze.

“You’re gonna tell me what’s going on with you, now. We’ve got the space for another twenty minutes before Modern Dance II comes in.” 

Kai blinked. That was...demanding. But he clearly was just trying to show he cared. They had been good friends long enough for Kai to have figured out that Ten’s tone could sometimes be a little more blunt than he intended.

“I…” Kai stared down at his water bottle as he tried to figure out how to phrase his troubles without provoking more questions. He hummed and continued, “I’ve been up late worrying over a friend recently. We were in constant contact for a while, and then he just vanished without a word.”

“Have I met this friend?” Ten asked in a gentle voice. 

“Yeah. You remember the guy I brought to Taeyong’s exhibit opening? Not this most recent one -- the one from a couple months ago.”

“Oh yeah, the guy with fluffy hair...Baek-something.” 

“Baekhyun, yeah.” Kai sighed. “I have no idea where he could have gone. I’ve been looking around for any sign of him for the past month or so and I haven’t gotten anywhere. I’m admittedly really stressed about it. Had strangely vivid stress dreams all last night, and I haven’t been able to focus on anything else.”

Ten rose to his feet and gestured for Kai to stand up with him. 

“Let me give you a sweaty hug. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Kai managed the barest hint of a smile and accepted the hug. It was in fact sweaty, hot, and generally awkward, but he hadn’t realized how much he needed it until he pulled away. His breath hitched and he did his best to cover it up by looking away and taking another sip of water. Ten placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“You’ve known each other for a long time.”

Kai nodded and explained, “We’ve known each other for at least half our lives. He wouldn’t just up and disappear unless something was seriously wrong. Or…” Kai had to stop talking if he wanted to stay relatively composed.

“Have you filed a missing persons report?” Ten asked gently.

“No,” Kai answered a little too quickly. “And I probably won’t. That’s...a very bad idea. Sorry that I can’t explain why.”

Ten frowned and opened his mouth but seemed to think better than to say whatever was on his mind and shut it again. 

“I’m running out of energy to look for him and I just want to know he’s okay.” Kai felt tears prick his eyes and stared at the ceiling lights, willing his drainage ducts to work faster. 

“I can ask around and see if anyone’s seen him?” Ten offered. “I know it probably won’t do much, but it’s probably the best I can offer. And lunch. We’re gonna go get lunch.”

Kai laughed at the abrupt shift in Ten’s tone and nodded. 

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” 

Lunch got Kai’s mind off his troubles for a little while. Ten walked him back to his apartment, citing the need to pick up groceries in that part of town anyway. Kai unlocked his door and before he could step inside, he realized exactly what an awful scene he was impressing upon his friend. The mess in his apartment was incredibly uncharacteristic of him. 

“Dude…” Ten muttered. “You weren’t kidding when you said…”

Kai winced and tried to shut his door. Ten held out a hand to keep it open as he moved to see something that had caught his eye. Kai tried to step between Ten and the nearest pile of laundry. 

“Are these your leads?” Ten asked in an unnecessarily cautious voice. He pointed to one of Kai’s walls. “This conspiracy flowchart thing?”

Kai glanced in the direction Ten was looking to see a wall with index cards and notebook papers tacked to his wall with strings connecting relevant information. He didn’t quite see what was wrong with it, so he turned back to his friend and cleared his throat. Should he have been self-conscious of something like that? He needed to organize his thoughts somehow, right? Keeping it in plain view where he could casually look over it at any point sure seemed like a good plan when he’d made it.

“Mmhmm. That’s...a list of our mutual friends. Just about all of them are difficult to track down, so I figured I’d take some notes on where they were and--”

Ten had walked past him into the apartment. 

“Jongin, do you and your friends have a special code or something?” Ten pointed at the nearest index card which had...what was admittedly not an earthly symbol drawn on it. And under it were several lines of notes that were definitely not taken in the Korean language.

“Yeah. Something like that. You know childhood friends and all that. You like...make up your own secret languages and stuff.”

Ten stared at him.

“Right?” Kai asked sheepishly. “People do that?” 

“I guess…” Ten trailed off, looking at the messy desk in front of him. “Either way, I’m gonna help you clean these dishes because it’ll weigh on my conscience if I don’t help you out in some way while you’re this far down the rabbit hole.”

Kai sputtered as Ten gathered up various dishes from the past week and lugged them over to his kitchen. He eventually just shut the door behind him and realized nothing he did or said could both get Ten to leave and convince him that he absolutely didn’t need to help out in any way. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot of friends,” Ten called out from the kitchen. Kai tossed one pile of clothes into the hamper in his closet in an attempt to look a little less like he was letting his life fall apart. 

“I guess you could say that,” Kai replied. He’d finally reached the last member of their group just the day before. Tao had knocked on his door and apologized for checking out of reality and living in slow motion somewhere deep in the Maolan Karst Forest for a while. He admitted that he hadn’t heard anything from Baekhyun in months, but he could stay in the country for a week or so to see if he could gather any leads. 

Kai had needed a long moment to compose himself after that conversation, aware that Tao had been his last ditch effort among his fellow inhuman friends, and was grateful for his friend’s time-control abilities so he wouldn’t be late to class. 

Ten returned to the main room of the apartment to find Kai sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at his wall chart.

“Sorry your conspiracy board friends haven’t gotten you answers,” Ten said. “I hope we can find him.”

“Me too,” Kai mumbled. “I’m scared of the possibilities.”

“I’ll grab you some ice cream and drop it off on my way back,” Ten declared, hand already reaching for the front door’s handle. “Today is now your cheat day. No complaints. You’re taking it right now. I’m getting you the good stuff.”

Kai’s face cracked into a sad grin and he nodded. 

“I can accept that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My username isn't EXO Cinematic Universe for nothing ; )
> 
> Let me know what you think about the story so far! Feedback makes my day every time~


	4. TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His vision warped violently. Everything went red. He braced himself against the handrail as the room began to spin around him. He blinked hard in a vain attempt to fight off dizziness and was seconds away from sitting down and calling out for help when he realized the staircase that should have stretched up to the next floor in front of him had vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Am I dreaming, walking in my sleep?  
> I just can't drop this feeling underneath my feet”

It was a sunny Monday morning when Ten was awakened by a spontaneous video call from Taeyong, who was hoping to discuss the logistics of Ten’s thesis project. Ten instantly scolded him for calling so early— _ it was already 10:30 _ , Taeyong had whined—and suggested they meet for breakfast at the cafe in the design institute. The cafe was a couple minutes’ walk away from Ten’s apartment and on the opposite side of campus from where Taeyong lived, so he knew he had plenty of time to roll out of bed and get on his way.

As he stood at a crosswalk just two blocks away from campus, he received a second text informing him that one of Taeyong’s friends would be accompanying him. Ten sighed and texted back,  _ Who? _ The light changed and he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He forgot to check his notifications again until he had his coffee in hand and was about to search for a table. 

Taeyong’s reply read,  _ Mark. _

It had been a while since Ten had last seen Mark. The energetic engineer graduated early last year and instantly secured a well-paying IT job with a company downtown. He was a little goofy but in an entirely lovable way. Something about him felt different, though, and Ten couldn’t quite put his finger on the source of his discomfort. Maybe he would get more insight on it during breakfast...lunch...brunch. Whatever it would be for everyone involved. 

Ten began his ascent of the design building’s stairs, hoping the second floor balcony would have some open tables left. Halfway up the stairs, however, his vision warped violently. Everything went red. He braced himself against the handrail as the room began to spin around him. He blinked hard in a vain attempt to fight off dizziness and was seconds away from sitting down and calling out for help when he realized the staircase that should have stretched up to the next floor in front of him had vanished. A new array of steps made from chiseled stone appeared in its place; this new staircase was entirely black save for a white chevron that cut down the middle, making the walkway resemble a large letter M. 

A familiar young blond man sat at the top of the stairs, elbows braced on his knees, head resting on his hands. The room finally ceased spinning as the man raised his head to look at Ten. At first Ten thought the man looked tired and maybe a bit timid, but when he blinked and his gaze sharpened Ten realized he must have been projecting his own emotions onto the man’s blank stare. Ten could usually trust his insight when it came to these things, but this man was a little different from everyone else. 

Ten could feel other people walk past him on the stairs and wasn’t sure if that was inside his vision or outside of it. The man rose to his feet and toyed with one of his silver hoop earrings. Ten took a few tentative steps forward. It felt like he was moving underwater. 

These visions always felt like dreams. Surely there was something horribly wrong with his brain—these had to be hallucinations, right? No matter how much doctors told him that there was absolutely nothing out of place, he wasn’t sure he could believe it; his blood work was perfect, brain scans detected nothing, and psychological evaluations just reported academic stress and a stubborn streak, neither of which were anything to write home about. And yet the visions continued to happen. 

The man watched as Ten finished climbing the stairs. The red glare that poured out of the skylight above the two of them nearly blinded him as the blond man leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Instead of hearing words, an image flashed in his mind: a painting that he didn’t quite recognize—some massive impressionist piece depicting a garden and a couple distant figures. The blond man straightened back up and looked down at Ten. The smell of cut flowers overloaded his senses for a moment.

Ten blinked. 

Suddenly, everything was back to normal. He stood alone halfway up the concrete steps of the design building. A few deep breaths later, he finally felt like he could move again. These visions had become common occurrences for Ten. Throughout his entire life he had received weird senses of déjà vu at least a few times every day that would tell him exactly what was about to happen. Usually it happened when people around him became indecisive or impulsive, but sometimes he would realize something simple.

Like right now: he knew that he would absolutely run into a distressed freshman turning a blind corner at the top of the stairs if he kept climbing the far right side of the staircase. He shuffled quickly to the other side of the stairs and continued his ascent, even though he was a little unsteady on his feet after whatever had just happened to him. Sure enough, the frenzied young woman he’d imagined came barrelling down the stairs, right past where he’d been only a few seconds earlier. 

The unpredictable and vivid visions hadn’t begun until about five years ago. Initially, he was terrified of the strange waking dreams that would make him space out for up to a few minutes at a time. He saw multiple doctors over the course of the first year and finally just stopped worrying after his fifth-opinion-doctor told him the same thing—he was completely in the clear. He just wouldn’t ever drive out of fear of spacing out while on the road. And he’d avoid using public transit unaccompanied out of fear of missing his stop. However odd these life-interrupting visions were, they also served as great sources of inspiration for art. He quickly learned that this strange existence was actually quite livable. 

However, in October of last year he started having visions of the blond man. The stranger had a sort of androgynous charm to him, which instantly grabbed Ten’s attention. He did his best to sketch and paint imagery from these visions: stairs, machines, wires, wine glasses… the blond man himself. His teachers and friends liked everything he was making, and he couldn’t find anything he was subconsciously plagiarizing, so he kept going.

Ten’s thoughts were interrupted by a  _ buzz _ from his phone. He stopped short of the balcony door to check it. He knew it would be Taeyong, but he was still a little out of sorts and wasn’t entirely sure what he had to say. 

_ Fifteen minutes out~ _

Ten texted back a quick thumbs-up emoji and pocketed his phone. He stepped out onto the balcony and was relieved to find it mostly empty. He grabbed a table in the sunlight with a view of the walkway down below and resigned himself to people-watching for the next fifteen minutes. Hopefully this way he could get his mind off the strange vision he had on the staircase before his friends’ arrival. 

A fleet of young women zipped by at an unreasonable speed on electric scooters, which made everyone down below jump in surprise. A bicyclist rolled by at a casual pace as a longboarder in a pikachu onesie held onto the biker’s backpack in a desperate attempt to keep pace. A young man strolled towards the media school in a blazer, shirt, and tie on the top half of his body and cargo shorts and flip flops on his lower half. 

Taeyong was about to round the corner. Ten frowned for a moment, wondering if Mark was arriving separately. He peered over the bannister and watched the corner as Taeyong rounded it...with Mark in tow? 

Strange. Maybe that last vision messed him up more than he had anticipated. Maybe he should consult a sixth doctor. He took a deep breath, schooled his expression, and waved over the bannister at his friends.

“Tae!” 

Taeyong and Mark’s heads whipped up and they waved back in sync. Ten sat back in his chair and basked in the sunlight as they made their way upstairs. Maybe he needed some sunlight...a nap, even. Taeyong  _ had _ interrupted his sleep that morning after all.

“Hey, sorry it took us longer than usual,” Taeyong greeted him, laptop and sketchbook precariously cradled by one arm while his other hand held two wrapped sandwiches. Mark trailed behind him by a few feet, carrying a lidless iced drink in each hand and concentrating on keeping them steady like his life depended on it. Ten made no move to help them, too amused by the sight to be bothered. 

“You said you finally got your crew and equipment all figured out! I want to hear what you’ve got for me, even if it means I had to roll out of bed earlier than I’d typically like,” Ten replied amiably. “I’ll try to not be bitter about it.”

Mark set one drink down next to Taeyong and glanced between the table’s third open chair and a nearby empty table. Ten didn’t have to catch a glimpse of the future to know what was going through his mind. 

“Uhh, I can sit somewhere else if—”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Ten interjected. He stretched a leg out, pushed the chair away from the table, and sent Mark a sharp look. “Sit with us. I haven’t seen you in weeks. Maybe even months. What’s up with that?” The last question was directed at Taeyong, who shrugged, looked at Mark for an answer, and took a sip of his iced coffee.

“I’ve been so busy at work, and when I get home I just collapse and play some video games or something,” Mark said with a wave of his hand and a forced laugh. “My schedule sucks. I gotta get out more.” 

Mark attempted to sit cross-legged in his chair and appeared to be deeply disappointed when he realized he couldn’t. Taeyong shook his head and smiled down at the table. He powered his laptop up with one hand and flipped through his sketchbook with the other. After a long moment of searching, he slid the book over to Ten and pointed at several hand-drawn panels. 

“So here’s the uh...storyboard. At least I think they call them that in dance too? Anyway, I went off of the video I got of you in the studio last week, so if there are any new additions to the choreography since then I won’t have them yet.” Taeyong went on to describe several camera angles and shot sequences. He showed off several different light gel samples and weighed the pros and cons of doing the majority of his coloring in post. Ten let him talk through most of it, trusting his friend’s judgement on these things. 

After a quick review of the crew he’d secured for the shoot, they discussed equipment. Unfortunately, the school didn’t have everything Taeyong wanted in his dream version of this shoot. As soon as he brought this up, Ten saw his eyes brighten as he turned to Mark, who was leaning back dangerously in his chair, checking something on his phone.

“Mark!” 

The man lost balance for a moment and nearly fell backwards. 

“What?”

“Do you know how to build something like this? Hold on.” Taeyong tapped out something on his computer and whipped it around to face Mark, who leaned forward and squinted at the screen. 

“Yeah, I could make something like that,” Mark replied with only about 75% confidence. “When do you need it?”

“What can you do for us in two weeks?” 

“Oh, two weeks?” Mark perked up. “That’s plenty of time. I could make something pretty smooth by then. Give me a date when you’ve got one and I’ll get to work.”

Taeyong clapped a hand on Mark’s shoulder, caught his gaze, and whispered, “Bro.”

Mark looked like a deer in headlights as he stuttered out, “...What?”

“You’re the absolute best. A lifesaver, even.”

Mark shook his head and laughed, “Don’t look at me like that over one rig, man!” 

“Like what?!” Taeyong laughed back at him. 

“You’re so unnecessarily intense!” Mark exclaimed. “I don't know what to do with that!” 

Ten grinned at the exchange and handed Taeyong his sketchbook back. 

“I’m so glad your little film major dreams are going to come true, Tae,” he said. “And yes, there have been a couple slight changes, but they shouldn’t affect this all that much. I’ll get Jongin to take a video of the choreography during the next rehearsal so you can get an idea of the finished product.” 

Taeyong nodded and gave a firm thumbs-up. 

Ten rose to his feet and sighed.

“And on that note, I am going straight home to take a nap.”

Or to sketch the most recent vision...but his friends didn’t have to know about that. As he was about to exit the balcony, Ten abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned back around to face his friends.

“Hey, Tae? If I gave you a description of a famous painting, would you be able to tell me what it was?”

Taeyong stared blankly back at him for a moment before sputtering out, “Uh...maybe? Maybe. Why?”

“Impressionist piece. Really big. Someone in a flowery field or garden or something on a sunny day. The person has like...an umbrella? Parasol? Way off in the distance, too.” 

Taeyong snapped his fingers and pointed at Ten as he declared, “Renoir.  _ Woman with a Parasol in a Garden _ . Probably. Is there a second person bent over next to her?”

Ten felt his jaw go slack.

“I couldn’t tell if it was a person or a bush, but  _ really _ ? The title’s that simple? You’re one talented man, by the way.”

Taeyong laughed, “I still could be wrong. There are a lot of impressionist paintings of women with parasols near flowers. I only remember it because of the master study part of the museum exhibit. Someone did a variation on that one. You should go check it out.”

Ten nodded, lost in thought. Maybe his vision meant something for once. Could it have been pointing him towards the museum? 

Well...it couldn’t hurt to look. 

“Thanks,” Ten replied. “I think I will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've fallen behind on writing future chapters for this story and I'm getting a bit anxious about it, so any comments will make my WEEK at this point. 
> 
> Song rec of the week based on this chapter is "Hallucinating - Mariachi Version" by Elohim


	5. LUCAS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas stared at the words “Cajun Hot” on his menu for a long moment, contemplating his life choices, and before he could stop himself, he heard his own voice say with unreasonable confidence: “Bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You are the party   
> You are the nuisance   
> You're not alone   
> It's not a nightmare   
> You are delightful"

Lucas honestly didn’t know why he had agreed to join Mark and his friend for dinner and drinks. He was going to say no. He really was. But he had said yes before he could think about it, and now here he was, riding a bus to a part of town he was far too unfamiliar with, wearing an array of neon-colored earrings and a hoodie with color blocking that resembled a TV test card. Hopefully he’d be hard to miss this way.

Mark had insisted on going to an American style restaurant, claiming that he always took new friends there. Lucas could remember trying a bit of American food when he was younger, and in retrospect he wasn’t sure how genuine the cuisine had been. As he stared at the sign advertising spicy chicken wings that dangled from thin ropes above his destination, he realized he had no idea what he was in for.

What were American spice standards? He knew various Chinese, Thai, and Korean cuisines well enough, and he had a sense for some Indian and Japanese dishes, but he’d never tried anything like this. 

After about ten minutes of waiting near the front door, he started to think he hadn’t made himself hard enough to miss. Maybe he should have doubled up on patterns or worn the bubblegum pink boots… 

Just as he pulled Mark’s contact up on his phone, a hand clapped onto his shoulder.

“I’m so glad you found the place alright!” Mark’s voice exclaimed right next to him, nearly making Lucas jump out of his skin. He turned to face the engineer. The strange sensation of seeing someone out of work clothes struck Lucas as he saw Mark sporting a hypebeast brand t-shirt, ripped slim-fit jeans, and tennis shoes that had definitely seen better days. Lucas blinked hard and pulled his face into a polite smile. 

“I was starting to worry I hadn’t,” Lucas replied. Another young man stepped into the light from the shop. 

“Ah,” Lucas continued, “and you must be Mark’s friend.”

“Taeyong. Pleasure to meet you.” The man rolled up the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt to shake Lucas’ hand. Taeyong was shorter and lankier than both Lucas and Mark, and he appeared to be swimming a bit in his clothes. 

“I suppose we should find a table, then?” Taeyong said. Mark raised a hand to stop him.

“Wait,” Mark said with a deadly serious tone. “Are we really not gonna comment on Lucas’ incredible outfit?” 

“His wha—oh shit. Dude. How did I not see that?” Taeyong backpedaled and gave Lucas an entirely shameless once-over. Lucas tried to not shrink under his gaze, more than a little unused to the experience of being so thoroughly and casually examined. 

“Bro, you’ve gotta show me where you shop sometime,” Mark demanded as he looped an arm through Lucas’ elbow and dragged him into the restaurant. Lucas was only released once they’d found a table that satisfied both of his companions. He took a deep breath to calm himself. 

Social outings weren’t exactly his thing. He had a hard time making and keeping friends, so any social outings usually consisted of family get-togethers and lunches with childhood friends who he rarely contacted outside of instant messaging apps. Mark seemed to be aggressively social, however, and as long as the IT department remained under construction, Lucas probably wouldn’t be able to escape invitations to various social events. Mark was kind of annoying, but the thousand-watt smile undid any damage his Big Ideas and generally _loud_ presence could possibly do to Lucas’ perception of him. 

Speaking of his big ideas, Lucas was about to be subjected to one that apparently Mark had repeatedly pulled over on many of his friends. 

“The idea is that we order the smallest order of six different types of chicken wings. They each increase in spice. If we have to take a drink of water or something, we have to answer a question from the other people at the table.”

Lucas nodded along to the proposal. Seemed easy enough...assuming his palate was prepared for American-style spices. Even then, his poker face was usually pretty good. He glanced Taeyong’s way in time to see him pop an antacid in anticipation. 

“Oh don’t worry, he’s just bad with spice,” Mark said. Lucas whipped his head up to look at Mark; maybe his poker face wasn’t all that good after all. 

Taeyong waved a hand dismissively and admitted, “I always tap out early. Don’t get psyched out by anything I do.”

Lucas stared at the words “Cajun Hot” on his menu for a long moment, contemplating his life choices, and before he could stop himself, he heard his own voice say with unreasonable confidence: “Bring it on.”

* * *

The meal concluded in a standoff between Lucas and Mark, both too stubborn to tap out before the other. Taeyong sipped his cocktail and nibbled on the remaining mild wings happily as he watched his two suffering friends tear up and breathe slowly through their mouths, tongues lolling out obscenely. 

Some unspoken understanding passed between Lucas and Mark’s watering eyes. Lucas held out a hand. Mark took it in a sweaty but firm grip and shook. They simultaneously took long sips from their tall glasses of milk. 

Lucas pointed at Mark and asked in a rough voice, “What are your sun and moon signs?” 

Mark pointed back at him and said, “I have no idea what those are. Where the fuck do you shop? I’m serious.” 

Taeyong set his drink down, held up a finger— _wait a moment_ —and tapped something out on his phone. He cleared his throat and let his phone clatter to the table as he made eye contact with Lucas. 

“The man’s a Leo Sun, Aries Moon.” 

Lucas slowly turned to look at Mark with wide eyes.

“And,” Taeyong added, “a Cancer Mercury, but I have no idea what that means.”

“A piece of work,” Lucas stage-whispered. “He’s a piece of work is what it means.”

Mark glanced nervously and wordlessly between his friends as he slowly drained his glass of milk.

“I get my clothes,” Lucas continued in as casual a tone as he could muster while his face melted, “from thrift stores. And clearance racks. If I don’t dress like this, people just ignore me. And when I do dress like this, no one says anything. Except you, Mark Lee. You’re the only valid motherfucker I’ve met since moving to Korea.”

Mark put his glass down.

“Wooow,” he breathed. “Bro. I’m honored.”

His milk mustache really undercut the moment, however, and Lucas was immediately launched into a painful peal of laughter. 

Taeyong drained the rest of his cocktail and rose to his feet.

“If I drink more than one,” he announced, “you all are gonna have to make sure I get home without falling asleep on the side of the road. So I’m gonna pay for the chicken and my stuff and hit the road. I have...so much editing to do...for a friend’s video...I can’t procrastinate any longer…”

“Text us when you get home, man,” Mark said as he stood and pulled Taeyong into one of the most awkward bro-hugs Lucas had ever been witness to. Taeyong composed himself and strolled to the cash register with all the grace of someone who was trying way too hard to look sober. 

Mark poured himself some soju and tipped it back like he was trying to remain polite and unassuming. Chasing spicy food with alcohol surely spelled bad news, Lucas thought to himself. Mark dangled his tongue out of his mouth again, and Lucas watched his face contort into a grimace as he clearly realized the mistake he’d made. 

“You’re a force of nature, Mark.”

Mark nodded, his expression unchanged. Lucas laughed. The burn was finally starting to fade for him. He really just wanted rice. Ice cream. _Kheer_. A few months ago, he’d been to an Indian restaurant that combined kheer and something like gulab jamun into one dish, and he suddenly had the urge to hunt through his internet history until he could find it again. He couldn’t remember what it was called for the life of him.

“Lucas.”

He snapped back to the present at the sound of Mark’s voice. 

“Yes.”

“You know about that astrology stuff.”

Lucas frowned. “I don’t know a lot. Just about as much as...someone who spends too much time on certain parts of the internet. A lot of English-speaking youngsters are into it right now, and social media is a good way for me to expose myself to languages I’m trying to pick up and learn ways to effectively advertise to a younger audience—” He cut himself off and shook his head. Rambling. He was rambling. Thankfully, Mark seemed unbothered. He concluded, “So kind of. The answer’s kind of yes.”

“Would it be too much of a leap to ask you about dreams?”

Lucas blinked hard. “Sorry, did I misunderstand you? You want to ask about dreams? Because I know a bit about astrology?”

“All that like...pseudoscience stuff. It’s connected to psychology a bit. Right?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Mark? I think I’m only half-following.”

Mark sighed. He poured himself another shot of soju and tipped it back gingerly. He had not learned his lesson from the first shot. He scowled at the green glass bottle in front of him as he hissed air through his teeth in a vain attempt to ease his suffering. 

“I had a really weird dream,” Mark stated. “I’ve been having multiple really weird dreams. And I have no idea what to make of them. I think it means something about work, but I don’t know _what_ it means about work. And I don’t know, you seem like a cool guy who knows things about stuff. Right?”

“Uh,” Lucas stuttered, “maybe? I know some things some of the time. But I uhh...I guess we’re friends, right? We’re friends now.”

“We had better be friends after the hot wing trial,” Mark interjected.

“Yeah. We’re friends now. We can just talk to each other about stuff, and if we have no idea what to make of it, we can just admit that. So maybe I don’t know shit about dream interpretation, but I sure could try to figure something out.”

Mark clapped his hands together, bowed his head, and said, “Thank you so much, man.”

He reached for the soju bottle again. Lucas grabbed it before he could tip its contents into the shot glass. Mark pouted and sat it back down on the table.

“Dude,” Lucas said through a bewildered grin, “once the capsaicin isn’t killing your mouth you can drink more. Tell me about this dream.”

“So,” Mark started, “I’m delivering a package, right? I’m dressed in all white for some reason, and I have no idea where I’m going. I think dream-me knew I was in a lower floor of our company building, though. I opened a normal looking door and walked into this like...room that’s just all white tiles. There were some weird plastic chairs over on one side of the room by this massive, pitch black window. I got the feeling something was watching me from the other side of it, which would normally be spooky as hell, but it didn’t seem bad in this dream. It’s weird.

“Anyway, I put my package on the floor and waited for someone to come pick it up. And no one ever came, so obviously I got the urge to open it, right? It’s this unlabeled thing wrapped in brown butcher paper so naturally I’m curious about it. And the thing on the other side of the window was still watching me. I think it also wanted me to open the package.”

“So you opened it?” Lucas asked. Mark’s description of the sensation of something watching him dragged up the recent memory of Lucas’s dream—the one he’d had right before they first met. The idea of something in the depths of the company building was far from foreign to him. Suddenly, he found himself very invested in Mark’s dream.

“So I opened it. I got through the paper easy, but the thing turned out to be a lot bigger on the inside? I started tearing paper and just had to keep tearing and tearing for ages, even when there definitely shouldn’t have been more. Finally, I got this massive block of polished black stuff unwrapped, and I stood on it. Don’t know why I stood on it. Just did. And as I stepped up, half the lights in the room went out. I heard a shattering noise and looked down to find the massive thing under my feet broken.”

Mark sucked in a breath and frowned before continuing.

“My reflection, man. That wasn’t me. It was dressed in black, and it looked dope, but there was something kinda wrong about it. I knew that was someone else. When I looked him in the eye, suddenly I was looking at someplace else entirely. A...a green room.”

A chill ran down Lucas’ spine.

“There was a guy,” Mark continued, “dressed in all black, sitting in a black chair. A bunch of clear plastic chairs—six of them, I think—are just knocked over all over the place.”

Mark’s serious expression broke as he suddenly burst into giggles.

“You know...you know that Sonic the Hedgehog fan dub…”

Lucas frowned.

“What.”

“Welcome to my room. As you can see…” Mark laughed at his own joke, “I’ve knocked over many chairs!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll show you before we leave. Anyway. This guy’s like. Super intimidating.”

“What does he look like?” Lucas asked.

“He’s skinny. Can’t tell how tall he is ‘cause he’s sitting down, but he’s blond and has silver earrings. He’s like...the pretty boy type, I guess. Can’t think of any other way to put it. I left the room and ran up the nearest stairwell, which was pretty dang long. There were eggshells lying around, and a glass was spinning on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Not sure what that was about.”

Mark frowned down at his shot glass.

“Anyway, that’s when my, like, shadow-self or whatever started rapping in English? Pretty sure that’s when the dream lost all coherence.”

Lucas blinked hard. “That sure was a weird dream. No wonder it stuck with you.”

“I know, right?” Mark sighed and reached for the soju again. Lucas didn’t stop him this time, especially when he said, “Best I can figure out is that I should start a soundcloud account.”

“I think,” Lucas said, hardly able to process what he had just heard, “that’s a possibility. Maybe your subconscious is telling you something about a pretty boy in your life?”

Marks knocked back his third shot at that. When he set the glass down on the table, his eyes widened and his head slowly rose to look Lucas in the eye.

“Bro.”

“What?”

“The pretty boy was me all along.”

Lucas nodded, “Maybe so.”

“What about the rest of it?” Mark asked with a furrowed brow.

“You got displaced at work, so you’re uhh...in all white because it’s a blank slate. And it always feels like someone’s watching over your shoulder at your new desk, maybe?”

Mark nodded as sagely as a tipsy fraternity boy who’s convinced he’s unlocked the mysteries of the universe after four shots of Tennessee honey. Lucas tried to not look as bewildered as he felt as he spouted his bullshit interpretations. There was no way they were dreaming about the same person; that was just absurd. It had to be a coincidence. 

“You’re smart, Lucas. That might be it.” 

Lucas nodded and looked Mark directly in the eye. Mark burst out into laughter first. Lucas mirrored him, hoping to shake the eerie sensation he’d picked up during their conversation. 

“Man, we should do this more often,” Mark said once he’d composed himself. “Lemme show you that video. We should get out of the restaurant owner’s hair soon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https: //www. youtube. com/watch?v=7jeMp7qdS2U 
> 
> Gotta eliminate the spaces in order to get that link working, but in case you don't know what Mark's talking about ^ that's it.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think! How's everyone's quarantine/distancing period been so far? It's a strange and difficult time for a lot of us, but I hope you all are staying healthy ❤️


	6. BAEKHYUN | LUCAS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baekhyun let out a heavy sigh as he sank into his chair. Another day of testing was nearly complete. The heart monitor pinching his finger was likely the only thing keeping him from falling asleep out of boredom.
> 
> \---
> 
> The strange blond man and the mirror hallway had consumed Lucas' sleeping hours every night for...well, he’d lost track after the first few nights. He had never had a recurring dream before, and it was starting to get under his skin. 
> 
> Maybe he should contact a therapist about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What we do when the power's out  
> What do we do when the lights go down?”

Mechanical whirs filled the air of the dark room. Blackout curtains covered the windows, and all furnishing was abandoned in favor of brightly-colored wires, jerry-rigged machinery, and an odd array of computer parts. Baekhyun let out a heavy sigh as he sank into his chair. Another day of testing was nearly complete. The heart monitor pinching his finger was likely the only thing keeping him from falling asleep out of boredom. 

A steady buzzing sound started at the far edge of the room and drew close to Baekhyun, stopping only as its source bumped into his foot. He looked down to see a little robot staring back at him with a mounted camera. After making...something close to eye contact, it began rolling playful circles around his chair. Baekhyun rose to his feet and turned in slow circles, following the machine’s movements. He still wasn’t quite used to these funny little creations, though they had been there since day one, and he was many weeks into his stay here. The small robots that followed him around his secluded residence appeared to have some kind of artificial intelligence programmed into them. The lengths humans would go to for companionship fascinated him; why didn’t his people think of anything like this?

Well, they had, but they weren’t made up of wires and codes. His planet’s golems were the closest his people ever came to artificial intelligence. The people of EXO-Planet were less interested in companionship for the most part, which was a load of bullshit to someone like Baekhyun. Being a social butterfly may not have done him any favors back home but it certainly helped him and his companions back when they had first landed on Earth. 

Suddenly realizing how dizzy he was becoming, he stopped turning in circles in favor of stretching his aching muscles. The little robot continued its orbit as he marveled at the machinery around him for what had to be the hundredth time since he first arrived here. Humans might not have widespread instances of inherent superpowers like his people, but their creative intelligence and daring curiosity made up for it. That’s what a lot of his friends didn’t understand -- they loved humanity, but they still viewed Earthlings as somewhat lesser beings.  _ They just haven’t evolved much _ , they would tell him.  _ They’re so cute! Watch them make machines to compensate where they lack innate ability. Genius children, the lot of them.  _

Condescension got in the way of their understanding of humanity. Just as humanity’s fear of the unknown got in the way of their ability to coexist with Baekhyun’s people. Here he was again, on the run from human government operatives just because he fucked up and got too excited at an art exhibit.

That was how he ended up here in this concrete dungeon of a basement with all of these machines. He desperately needed to learn to control his powers, and one way to do that was to experiment in a controlled environment. Maybe this way the origin of his powers would come to light. (Hah...light. He’d have to hold onto that one.) He had never really questioned the metaphysical abilities of his race before he made his first long-term human friend. If there’s one thing humans are great at, it’s asking questions. 

The tiny robot suddenly peeled out of its circles and beelined for the far side of the room. Baekhyun quickly summoned a few small dancing orbs of light around his feet so he could follow it into this darker part of the room. When it came to an abrupt halt, Baekhyun barely avoided tripping over it. After a quick glance at his surroundings, he realized his little friend had led him to one of the larger contraptions in the room. Its joints slowly whirred into action as he approached it. It looked like a camera crane mixed with a mechanical arm and an x-ray machine, and Baekhyun couldn’t even start to fathom what its purpose could be. But he trusted its creator’s intelligence (and intentions), and that would have to be enough for the time being. 

The little lens on the contraption erupted into rays of light. Baekhyun stared directly into the powerful white beam with wide eyes. He got the typical glimpses at the vasculature on the inside of his eyeballs (which was  _ still _ a weird experience) before he could get his eyes to focus on the machinery past its lens.

Things took a turn for the strange right about then. When he had interacted with the weird light machine in the past, this was typically the point when he would see a message or picture on the other side of the lens. (Some part of this experiment was clearly an eyesight test using various light sources and intensities -- of that much he was certain.) This time, he saw a short scene instead. 

It was almost as if he was whole-body transported into a bright red room. A black, flat-topped, tiered pyramid (maybe it was more of a ziggurat -- a frustum, maybe?) with a green chevron down the middle appeared before him. On top of the structure stood a strange blond man in dark clothing. He stretched his arms out to his sides, palms and face turned towards the sky, and spun in a relaxed but gleeful circle. The sight reminded Baekhyun of a time many years ago when he watched people emerge from their homes during the first rain after a drought; the sight was the first of many that made him fall in love with humanity. 

And just as soon as it had begun, it was over. The light turned out and his eyes readjusted to the dark room almost immediately.

That was...strange. 

A door opened somewhere on the floor above him, and Baekhyun’s blood ran cold. His little robot companion swiveled its camera to look at the one door in and out of the room. Footsteps thumped towards closer...and closer...and Baekhyun held his breath as he mentally ran through his emergency escape plans one by one. 

The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Someone’s knuckles rapped against it in code.

**…. . .-- .-- ---**

Baekhyun was instantly torn between sighing in relief and rolling his eyes at his companion. This was the great cost of learning multiple languages and codes. At least he knew for sure that the coast was clear. His robot companion rolled back into the darkness in search of its charging station as the door at the top of the stairs opened and a familiar silhouette filled its frame.

* * *

Lucas couldn’t believe he’d managed to run out of fresh and interesting clothing. He’d finally neglected his laundry long enough to run into trouble. He hoped a neon green tie, bright pink wristwatch, and traffic cone orange shoes would keep people from ignoring him at an important meeting today. He scrambled to gather the files scattered around his apartment and rushed out the door, admittedly a little later than he’d hoped to be up and at it. He wouldn’t be getting that twenty or so minutes of morning peace he typically looked forward to.

People rushed frantically onto and off of the morning bus. Lucas squeezed on board and tried hard to not think about how wrinkled his suit could get while crammed on board with an ungodly number of strangers. He escaped the bus after a long and uncomfortable commute and tried to appear composed as he walked into his building and mentally ran over his meeting notes.

Lucas arrived at his floor and squeezed out the doors right before they could shut on him. His watch read 8:00 AM. He didn’t so much as send a glance towards his desk as he hurried straight to the conference room and slipped inside just in time for the meeting to start. 

It would be yet another exhausting meeting that he absolutely had no reason to stay at after a 15 minute-long discussion about the technicalities of the company’s current marketing plans. As soon as they wrapped his portion of the meeting, he allowed himself to zone out. His mind naturally wandered to his now recurring dream. The strange blond man and the mirror hallway had consumed his sleeping hours every night for...well, he’d lost track after the first few nights. Lucas had never had a recurring dream before, and it was starting to get under his skin. 

Maybe he should contact a therapist about it.

Or maybe…

Lucas’ eyes slid shut for a second. At least he could have sworn it was only for one second. When he opened them again, instead of the meeting room he had been in only a moment ago, Lucas was met with the sight of the man from his dreams sitting across from him at the conference room table. Green lights cascaded down over the entire room, giving Lucas a much clearer image of his companion than he’d gotten over the past week or so. The stranger’s ears and hands were decorated in silver jewelry. His eerie blue eyes lazily followed his own delicate movements as he turned the dial in front of him. Lucas could tell from this close that the man’s hair was artificially bleached, and his skin was incredibly smooth. He wore a loose-fitting black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

Lucas held his breath as the man slowly raised his head. Their eyes met for a moment. Lucas opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak his gut was wracked by the sensation that he was falling. 

He gasped hard as he...woke up from a dream. He’d fallen asleep in his meeting. The man was gone, the lights were off, and everyone had left the room without him. The motion sensors turned the lights back on for him as he sat up and gathered his papers. 

That was the final straw. He had to talk to someone about this. Or at least about the strange hallway in the building’s basement. 

Lucas scurried out of the conference room and back to his desk. Just as he settled into his chair, a familiar voice piped up right behind him.

“Hey! Where were you?”

Lucas jumped an embarrassing couple of centimeters into the air. 

“Where was I?” Lucas asked, his accidental nap a little too noticeable in his voice.

“Yeah,” Mark laughed as he crossed his arms and leaned against Lucas’ desk. “You didn’t come out of the meeting with all those other people so I just assumed you were out sick or something.” 

“N...no, I uhh.” Lucas cleared his throat. “I accidentally fell asleep in the meeting. You really noticed all that?”

Mark shrugged and said, “Yeah. I don’t have much else to do this early in the day unless the projectors stop working or someone forgets their computer password or something. And it’s kind of noticeable when you’re not here with all your--”

Mark gestured vaguely at each one of Lucas’ neon accessories from top down. 

Lucas frowned.

“Dude, not to sound like...shitty or anything, but people don’t usually notice when I go missing. Like, I’ve mentioned stuff like this before, but I don’t think you understand how weird it is to me that you notice every single time I’m--” Lucas cut himself off and his eyes widened as he considered another possibility. “Unless you’re spying on me,” he whispered, mostly to himself.

Clearly he hadn’t said it quietly enough because Mark cracked up.

“Do you think I’m cool enough to be a spy?” Mark asked, suddenly very serious-looking. 

“Uhh…” Lucas just stared back at him. 

“Oh come on!”

It was Lucas’ turn to laugh.

“I think,” Mark said, “you’ve known too many jerks in your life.”

“Mark, you don’t get it. The only people who notice when I’m around or missing are my family members, and even then there’s a chance they’ll just...I don't know, forget about me. I’ve been left behind at so many grocery stores...”

Mark frowned and leaned back on his heels as he thought to himself for a moment.

“Wait,” he said. “You said you fell asleep earlier. Did you get a talking-to or did they just leave you in there?”

“They left me.”

Mark balked. 

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

Mark exclaimed incredulously, turning the heads of a couple nearby coworkers. He pulled up his chair, sat down next to Lucas, and studied him closely. Lucas squirmed a bit under his gaze. 

“What?” Lucas asked.

“I just don’t see how anyone could stop looking at you,” Mark said with a shake of his head.

“ _ What? _ ” Lucas asked again.

“Wait. That came out wrong. It’s just…” Mark sighed and crossed his arms again. “You’re an objectively handsome guy, yeah? And you’re always dressed well, and you wear a lot of colors and patterns. You’re  _ really _ hard to miss.” 

“Uh...thanks, I guess?” Lucas wasn’t quite sure what to do with the compliment. He floundered for a moment before Mark continued.

“Anyway, you okay dude? Rough night?”

Lucas rubbed his eyes and groaned a “Yes.”

“Ah. The bad kind of rough night, huh.”

Lucas looked back at Mark, wide-eyed again, and stuttered, “I can’t get my coworkers to notice me, how do you think I could manage to get--”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Mark scrambled in his defense. “I’ve got faith in you or whatever! Do you want some sleep aids or something? I’ve got like a literal pharmacy here at my desk…”

“Nah, I don’t know if that’d help.” Lucas sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Your emergency stash is appreciated, though. I just keep having weird dreams, and I’m not hitting my sleep cycle right or something.”

“Ah well,” Mark said as he rolled back to his desk, “if you need anything from me, you let me know.”

The elevator chime dinged far away as someone arrived at their floor, and it was as if a light switched on in Lucas’ mind. The elevator...the basement...maybe there was something Mark could do for him after all.

“Hey, actually,” Lucas said in a hushed tone as he leaned over to Mark’s desk again, “how well do you know the layout of the building?”

“Uhh,” Mark said, “pretty well. What’re you looking for?” 

“What do you know about the lower levels?”

Mark shrugged and admitted, “Never been down past the company car garage, but I think I’ve got access just in case they need maintenance.”

“But there are, like, lower levels...plural, right?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah, there are a few levels down there, I think. Don’t know what department’s down there though. I could look into it if you want.”

Lucas thought for a moment and replied, “Don’t go out of your way or cause any trouble for yourself. It’s just a bit of curiosity on my part. If you can find out easily, I’m pretty curious.”

Mark shot him a sly smile and finger guns.

“Thanks,” Lucas said quietly.

Three hours passed quickly as Lucas lost himself in color correction for his current video editing project. He didn’t even realize so much time had passed until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Mark pointed to Lucas’ bright pink watch and mouthed “lunch time.” Lucas pulled his ear buds out and quickly saved his file. 

“Wanna get lunch together?” Mark asked cheerily. And how could Lucas say no to that smile? Some voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the deep trouble he could get in if he kept being such a yes-man all the time, but he swept the thought aside as soon as the two of them sat down at a nearby cafe and Mark whipped out his laptop to reveal...something that initially made no sense to him. He wordlessly raised an eyebrow at Mark. 

“There is no department down there.”

“No department...oh, in the lower levels?”

“Yeah. So like, look, I know for a fact that there are multiple levels below the garage. I just do. There’s another button on the elevator, and I know I have higher access than most employees. The only levels most people at our company are cut off from are like one or two of the executive levels up top, the garage, and the level down low. I’ve never seen that lower level though, so I don’t know where to go with it past looking into company data.”

Lucas slowly realized what he was looking at: files stealthily picked apart for their data. Mark recompiled the data and the layout into a weird 3D collage-like map of the building. He had done all of this in  _ only three hours _ ?

“If I’m being honest,” Mark mumbled into his drink, “it makes me feel a bit weird about that dream I had. I was really sure I was underground...in our building.”

“I’ve been to that lower level,” Lucas blurted out. He hadn’t meant to explain himself this quickly, but after all the effort Mark had put into his casual inquiry he figured it was the least he could do.

“Oh?” Mark asked.

“I mentioned that people just kind of don’t notice me,” Lucas explained. “That happened the week before last, back on the day when your department flooded. Anyway, some executive rode in the elevator down to the lower level with me right behind him the whole time.”

“Wait so when you say people don’t notice you, it’s not just...it’s like people legit just--”

“Don’t  _ notice _ me, yeah. It’s a curse or something, I don’t know. Anyway, it went to a hallway lined with mirrors. Like, the walls are made of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. And at the far end, there’s another elevator.” 

Mark’s jaw hung open for a few seconds before he seemed to realize what he was doing and snapped it shut with a quiet  _ click _ . 

“Well?” Mark asked. “What did you do?” 

“I just stood there in the back of the elevator and slowly had an anxiety attack.” 

The two of them just stared at each other for a moment. Mark dissolved into nervous laughter. Lucas followed suit. 

“Well,” Mark whispered. 

“Well?” Lucas muttered back. 

“Well,” Mark continued, “we can’t turn back now. We gotta find out what’s down there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient, so you're getting this chapter a whole day early!   
> You can always find me on tumblr at [exocinematicuniverse](http://exocinematicuniverse.tumblr.com)  
> Hope you all are staying safe and healthy! 
> 
> Want a spotify playlist of all the music I've used/referenced so far (plus a bonus song for Lucas' section from this chapter)? I've got one [RIGHT HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IovpYDM7zTReL5Wj6V55c?si=z-myFYb4RN6IbPywhWp6LA)


	7. TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongin stared at him, unmoving.  
> “What are you waiting for?” Ten asked before downing the last of his tea.   
> “I thought you thought I was crazy.”  
> “Well there’s only one way to prove it,” Ten said with a bright, performative smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sweet dreams are made of this,  
> Who am I to disagree?  
> I travelled the world and the seven seas,  
> Everybody’s looking for something.”

Ten arrived at Jongin’s apartment unannounced sometime Saturday morning. The man hadn’t been responding to any text messages or calls for the past two days, and Ten was starting to worry. He gave a few firm knocks on the door. Silence followed for half a minute. As Ten raised his hand to knock again, a floorboard squeaked on the other side of the door, sending a rush of relief through him. The deadbolt  _ clacked _ and the apartment door opened slowly to reveal an honestly horrible-looking Jongin. 

“I was stupid to think you couldn’t possibly worry me any more than you already had,” Ten said with a sigh as he slipped past Jongin and into the apartment. “Let’s open a window for you.”

He tried hard to not think about how a new wall was now also covered in notes in a strange combination of his friend’s strange code and Hangul. The place needed sunlight and fresh air before the mess could be properly addressed. Jongin appeared to be doing better on the leaving-dirty-clothes-on-the-floor front, but Ten wasn’t entirely reassured by that. Judging from the slight lingering smell of body odor around Jongin, he doubted his friend had changed out of his current t-shirt and sweatpants in the past few days. 

“Change your clothes,” Ten instructed. “I’m raiding your tea cabinet.”

“Ten, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t have to, my ass. Have you seen yourself recently? Actually, go ahead and take a shower. I’ll put together an outfit for you.”

Jongin stood in the middle of the apartment and blinked hard at Ten like he wasn’t sure he was actually seeing him. After a moment, Ten rolled his eyes and clapped, startling Jongin as Ten pointed him towards the bathroom. As Jongin scurried out, Ten shut and locked the front door, and then went searching for a fresh set of clothes. Now on executive function autopilot, Ten set a kettle on the stove, pulled out a couple mugs for tea, and wiped the kitchen counters down while he was at it. When he checked the refrigerator, he was disappointed to find virtually nothing of substance inside. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he sat on the counter and rifled through Jongin’s collection of nearby delivery menus for something that sounded appetizing. 

After a dull few minutes, his attention was inevitably pulled back to Jongin’s newest conspiracy board. He had tried ignoring it for as long as possible, but he had a clear view of it from his place on the counter, and it made focusing on the task at hand incredibly difficult. With a sigh, he hopped back onto his feet and gave in to the temptation to take a closer look. 

Jongin had haphazardly put together a map of the city. Pins with flags made out of notebook paper marked several places. Ten couldn’t get anywhere with the coded writing, but the numbers by each pin made perfect sense: they were times and dates. Jongin reemerged from the bathroom as Ten did his best to analyze the map (and maybe assess his friend’s mental state while he was at it). 

“Wait, don’t mind that—”

“Jongin, what the hell are you up to?” Ten cut him off. “There’s hot tea in the kitchen, by the way. It should be a drinkable temperature by now.”

Jongin stared blankly at him. 

“What are all these points on the map?” Ten needled him further. Jongin opened his mouth and somehow Ten already knew what he was going to say.

“They’re pow—”

“Power outages?” Ten said incredulously. “Why are you tracking power outages?”

He turned and studied the nearest points.

“How did you know what they were?” Jongin asked in a quiet voice.

“Didn’t you just say what they were?”

“I didn’t finish. You acted like you already knew.”

Ten huffed. He had a...talent, for lack of a better word, for finishing other people’s sentences, and sometimes he couldn’t explain it away with great intuition. He scrambled to find an explanation for this one. That was when his eyes landed on a pin stuck in the north side of campus.

“Well, this is the exact date and time my electricity went out three weeks ago while I was trying to turn in a paper,” he responded as quickly as possible. “I vividly remember the time that was on my computer screen when the class website said I had no connection. The panic was a little too real.” 

Jongin hummed and left for the kitchen. Ten sighed, relieved that today was not the day when he would finally have to say the words, “I think I might be able to see the future sometimes,” out loud to another human being. He reached out for the mug on the desk next to him and realized  _ shit fuck _ it wasn’t there yet. As soon as he retracted his hand, Jongin returned and placed the mug exactly where he’d reached a moment earlier. 

“I know we all tell you this a lot, Ten,” Jongin mumbled, “but you’re weird.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m the kind of weird who’s willing to do your dishes, though?” Ten threw a smirk over his shoulder. Jongin shook his head, but a smile flashed across his lips as he raised his own mug to conceal it. 

“Why in the world are you looking at this, Jongin?” 

Jongin’s face sobered and he set the mug down on his dresser. He shook his head and stared at the map for a long moment. He always needed time to compose his thoughts before speaking, Ten noticed. The look on his face was the same as what Ten used to see on himself when he was younger and a little more rusty with Korean. He was suddenly hit with the realization that he knew next to nothing about Jongin’s history. Ten had told him plenty about his silly attempt at making it on youtube as a young teen, his lifelong dream of being a dancer, and even the stories of how he’d met most of his current close friends. 

He knew nothing about Jongin’s life outside of the university and their friendship. 

“I’m trying to find him,” Jongin stated after a long pause.

“Your missing friend,” Ten clarified with an understanding nod. “Do you think he’s going on a spree shutting people’s power off or something?” 

Jongin sighed and wrinkled his nose.

“Lights always went off around him. Never any rational cause for it. It would just happen.” He rose to his feet, crossed the small space to stand next to Ten, and pointed to the pins with notes attached as he continued: “These are all explained in announcements on utilities sites and local news feeds. These”—he pointed to several pins Ten had previously failed to notice—“aren’t explained anywhere.”

Ten turned from the map to look at Jongin, who refused to meet his gaze.

“I know what it sounds like—” 

“Do you?” Ten interrupted. 

Jongin sat down on the bed and sighed again, clearly frustrated now. Ten suddenly felt a little bit bad. On one hand, the man was acting crazy, and Ten wanted nothing more than to snap him out of it. On the other hand, he was slowly losing all hope in finding his missing friend, and any ounce of optimism should be encouraged...right? Ten frowned and examined the map again. 

“I had a dream about a power outage last week,” Jongin mumbled. “It was that stress dream before rehearsal. When I told you about Baekhyun going missing.”

He paused for a moment to give Ten space to reply, but Ten bit his tongue and waited for him to continue. 

“I was alone on the top level of a parking garage. All the cars were missing and there was only one lamp lit. When I turned my back on the open lot, a car crashed behind me. No one was inside. I realized it came from above and looked up just in time to see all the cars that probably should have been in the lot slowly falling towards me. I...got out of the way just in time.”

Ten nodded. Jongin opened his mouth to say more but seemed to change his mind at the last second.

“No, tell me everything,” Ten urged. “I want to know.”

“Uhh…I opened my eyes again and saw someone. I think I know him from someplace, but I’m not sure. He was lounging on a long set of stairs, surrounded by machinery.”

That rang an uncomfortable number of bells in Ten’s mind. 

“What did he look like?” Ten asked, apparently a little too quickly. Jongin gave him a curious look and slowly proceeded with a description.

“Blond. Like bleach-blond, down to the roots. Well-dressed in blue and black. Silver earrings. Korean, probably, but he had creepy pale blue eyes.” Jongin huffed and mumbled, “I swear I’ve seen him before.” 

Ten paled. His eyes searched the map. Suddenly, Jongin’s conspiracy board felt a lot less crazy to him.  _ Someone else was seeing visions of the blond stranger. _

“These markers right here,” Ten said, pointing at two “unexplained” pins in the wall, “are both by public parking garages. They’re pretty close together, too.”

“Wait, what?” Jongin reeled.

“You said you had a dream about a power outage near a parking garage, right?”

Jongin nodded.

“Well, get your ass into street clothes. We’re gonna check them out. But you’ll be doing the driving.” 

Jongin frowned and replied, “What makes you think I can drive?”

Ten sighed, “Fine. We’ll take bikes, then.” 

Jongin stared at him, unmoving.

“What are you waiting for?” Ten asked before downing the last of his tea. 

“I thought you thought I was crazy.”

“Well there’s only one way to prove it,” Ten said with a bright, performative smile. “Get your shit together. Let’s go!”

  
  


The first parking garage was a dud. It was at the edge of campus, and as soon as Ten got within a block, he got a flash of a memory that was yet to be written: the structure had recently been torn down. He didn’t want to discourage Jongin, however, so he kept that fact to himself and acted surprised when they arrived. 

They had to cut through a neighborhood to get to the next building, and navigating the area proved to be a little difficult when clearly some hooligans had recently taken a baseball bat to several street signs. As Ten got off his bike for the third time to pick up a sign that had been knocked clean off its pole, he was genuinely startled by a familiar voice.

“Oh hey, guys!” 

Ten’s head whipped upwards to find none other than Taeyong’s friend, Mark, covered in grease and dirt, standing in a driveway next to a sleek, black car. Ten hadn’t seen that coming. He was never startled by people talking to him. It felt...wrong. Something about Mark felt wrong.

But how could he be upset with that dopey smile? Ten grinned and waved back.

“Hi, Mark!” Ten glanced over his shoulder at Jongin and said, “Do you remember Taeyong’s friend? We met him briefly at the gallery walk a couple months back.”

Ten worried for a moment about having brought up the last time Jongin saw his missing friend, but when the man simply smiled and waved at Mark, Ten’s concern vanished. Mark pulled a rag out of his back pocket and did his best to wipe the grease off his hands as he strolled down the sidewalk towards them. 

“What are you guys doing out here?” Mark asked, still grinning. “Going for a ride?”

“On our way to a parking garage, actually,” Ten said, quickly whipping together a cover story that would satisfy Mark. “I...want to see how fast I can bike down from the top.”

“Oh cool!” Mark said, and his smile somehow brightened. He bent over and picked up the fallen street sign. “Someone’s jerk kids drove through the neighborhood the other night and screwed up a bunch of these. I was gonna take matters into my own hands if the city didn’t come by soon, but then this car happened, and I got distracted.”

“The car...happened?” Ten asked.

“Yeah, it broke down last week, and the company was just gonna get rid of it. Not even fix it or sell it or anything! Like...really? In the year 2020? Just junking a car like that? So I asked if I could get paid overtime if I fixed it for them, and they agreed.”

Mark put his hands on his hips and admired his work.

“I’m adding some tune-ups on top of what I told them I’d do. I’ve always wanted to mess around with a nice car like this.” 

“It is a pretty gorgeous car,” Jongin chimed in, looking a little lost in thought as he stared at the vehicle. Mark turned to face him with a face that said,  _ right??? _

“Anyway, do you guys need help getting anywhere?” Mark asked. “I know this neighborhood like the back of my hand.” He glanced at his grease-smudged hand and comically frowned for a moment before looking back up at them. 

“Yeah, actually,” Ten replied and pointed vaguely eastward, “Can you point us in the direction of the garage on 4th and Poplar? Over that way somewhere.”

Mark nodded and without a second’s hesitation instructed them, “Go straight on this road for another two blocks, then turn right. You’ll hit a T-intersection and go left again for one block, then be careful when you hang a right onto the main road. It’ll be on your right at some point.”

“Thanks, man, and best of luck with that car,” Ten said with a wave. 

“See you around!” Mark called after Ten and Jongin as they climbed back onto their bicycles and took off down the road. They followed his directions until they reached the main road outside of the neighborhood. As they waited for a gap in traffic, Jongin spoke softly.

“That was the car in my dream.”

Ten turned to him and frowned.

“What?”

“The car he was working on,” Jongin said a little louder. “That was the car that crashed behind me. The first one that hit the ground. It’s unmistakable.” 

Ten stared at him as he tried to find some kind of meaning in all of it. Did Jongin have some special talent in foresight too? That would be a question future-Ten would have to explore because, before he could say anything, Jongin took off into a large space between cars. Ten hopped back onto his seat and peeled out into the road behind him. 

This parking garage was still standing, which was promising. Ten was relieved when Jongin pulled over to the elevator instead of attempting to bicycle up all five levels of the garage. As soon as they wrestled their bikes out of the elevator on the top floor, Jongin leaned his against the wall and jogged out into the unoccupied lot. 

“This is it,” he said eagerly. “This is where I was. There! That’s the sign that lights up at night. And that’s the light that was still on while the others went out.”

The light in question was inexplicably illuminated during the day, too, it seemed. Ten knocked his kickstand out and left his bike behind. They had a great view of both Mark’s neighborhood and the nearby businesses along 4th street from up here, and warm rays of sun poured down from the early afternoon sky. 

Ten made it halfway to the lamp post where Jongin was standing when his vision of the world suddenly warped around him. He blinked hard and as his surroundings came into focus once more, he was looking at the long staircase he’d seen several times before...but this time the room was blue. The blond stranger had his back to Ten as he climbed the stairs with a swaying gait. At the top sat several machines, which were familiar sights to Ten at this point. Their wires cascaded down the stairs on either side of the stranger’s path.

The most unsettling part of this was the bodies. Six lifeless versions of the stranger lay on the stairs around him. They looked like they had collapsed at various stages of ascent, and none of them looked like they had been that way for long. Ten hoped they were just unconscious, but something told him that was not the case. 

Ten was rocketed back to reality as Jongin lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Ten? What’s wrong?”

He blinked hard and shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. He knew his head would be a little hazy for a moment. His perception of time warped a bit as he jumbled through an explanation.

“I saw the stairs. Blue. You were right he was in— Down on tables or up close. The machines are normally— Who is he? There were so many of them…”

“Ten, what in the world are you talking about?” Jongin asked, concern etched in his brow and at the corners of his lips. He gently placed his free hand on Ten’s forehead.

“The man! The man from… uhh, the strange blond man! I saw him.”

Jongin quickly looked around the parking lot. 

“Not here!” Ten said a little too loudly. He waved a hand and clarified, “Vision. I had a vision. I see things sometimes. Sorry I didn’t mention that earlier.”

“You what?”

“He was in a blue room, walking up stairs. There were machines and wires, and there were like...clones of him. Or past or future him? There were other versions of him all collapsed ragdoll-like on the stairs. I think they were dead. I don’t know.” Ten shuddered and added, “I think I need to sit down, actually. Give me a moment.”

He sat down on the ground and took a few shuddering breaths. His visions of the blond stranger didn’t typically hit him this hard. Those lifeless, seemingly discarded bodies framing the man’s ascent were viscerally disturbing than anything Ten had seen outside of movies and newsreels. 

After all, who even was this man? 

If he was real, what could he possibly want from Ten? 

Why was Jongin also receiving visions? 

None of this made sense. 

Jongin was talking to him.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” Ten said sheepishly.

“Is this normal?” Jongin asked in a somewhat panicked voice.

“For me...kind of,” Ten explained. “I space out and see things—visions or something. Usually I just write stuff down and make art and brush it off, but we’ve both seen this man now, and I’m starting to wonder…”

“If it’s more than just you?”

Ten looked into Jongin’s wide eyes and breathed, “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it, folks. We survived March. 
> 
> I realized way too late in the game that I don't actually have a city that this takes place in...I just know that logically it should take place in Korea...? It's a fake city in a sci-fi timeline idk sue me (wait no pls don't i don't have much money) 
> 
> Anyway, it was only a matter of time before I put Sweet Dreams on [the playlist for this fic.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4IovpYDM7zTReL5Wj6V55c?si=KF-LuIYoTU-OACpbHRYlJg) Been having a harder time writing in quarantine than I thought I would. Hopefully the next chapter will come out on time! I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.


	8. TAEYONG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taeyong was late to his meeting at Mark’s house, not because he slept past his alarm, couldn’t find his camera bag for a solid eight minutes, or because he took a wrong turn on his walk over (the stupid street signs were still beaten up), but because when he arrived at Mark’s house, he stood at the end of the driveway for exactly five minutes ogling over the beautiful, sleek black car parked in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be typos because google docs is slacking. Bear with me.

Taeyong was late to his meeting at Mark’s house, not because he slept past his alarm, couldn’t find his camera bag for a solid eight minutes, or because he took a wrong turn on his walk over (the stupid street signs were still beaten up), but because when he arrived at Mark’s house, he stood at the end of the driveway for exactly five minutes ogling over the beautiful, sleek black car parked in front of him. 

Surely Mark’s job didn’t pay  _ that _ well. Surely if he’d been saving up for something like that he would have talked nonstop about it. Surely Mark wasn’t keeping a big secret from him. As far as he was aware, his friend couldn’t keep a secret for the life of him; the only time Mark kept a successful secret from Taeyong was when Mark himself had forgotten about the secret. (That was Taeyong’s surprise birthday party two years ago—Mark had remembered he was picking Taeyong up from class and bringing him back to his house to “hang out,” but he’d forgotten that people would be over and setting up while he was away. Mark would never live down the shriek emitted at everyone’s synchronized, “Surprise!”) 

So maybe a rich friend from Mark’s company was over for a visit. Maybe one of his Canadian relatives was absolutely  _ loaded _ and he’d forgotten to mention it. Maybe Mark was being confronted by government officials for finally hacking something he shouldn’t have.  _ Maybe _ he stole it. A couple screeching children rocketed past on beaten-up bicycles, and Taeyong was very suddenly jolted back to his senses. Mark’s life wasn’t  _ that _ wild. Taeyong needed to do a better job of shutting his filmmaking brain off every now and then. 

He approached Mark’s front door and rang the bell, still a bit dazed. A couple muffled thumps and yelps later, Mark answered the door. He opened his mouth to greet his friend but was quickly cut off. 

“Dude, whose car?”

Mark’s face broke out into a grin.

“Beautiful, right?” he said in a hushed voice.

“I mean, yeah! It’s gorgeous! What’s it doing in your driveway?”

“Company let me restore it,” Mark explained with a smug grin. “It’s gonna run so smoothly and efficiently by the time I’m done with it, my coworkers are gonna be fighting over who gets to drive it every day.” 

Taeyong kicked his shoes off just inside the front door and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. That’s right, Mark was doing Normal Mark Things™ and had definitely not stolen a car, received a sudden inheritance from a secret rich relative, or hacked another government database. 

“Anyway, let’s see what you’ve whipped up for me,” he said as he shut the door behind him. Mark spun around and beckoned him into the living room. 

The living room was not currently fit for much living in general. All sorts of mechanical odds and ends covered every visible surface with the exception of one narrow clear path down the middle of it. Some of the clutter was even topped with a second layer that consisted of blueprints and sketches of various types of rigs and camera-mounting equipment. In the middle of it all, sitting on a round rug probably meant for a Christmas tree, was a jib arm camera crane that was one nice paint job away from professional quality. This was far from the MacGyvered contraption Taeyong had expected. 

“I knew you were a good engineer,” he stuttered out, “but dude...this is pure talent. You did all this with the stuff you had lying around?”

“Mostly,” Mark replied with a shrug as he carefully tiptoed his way over to his creation. “I only had to go out to find a couple specific parts. It wouldn’t have moved smoothly without a little extra something here and there.”

“How much do I owe you?” Taeyong could feel his eyes bugging out of his head as typical jib crane prices flashed through his mind. Mark waved his hand dismissively. 

“We should see if it works right first,” he laughed. “But like, I guess you can buy me dinner sometime? Don’t worry about it.”

_ Oh, he was definitely gonna worry about it. _ Mark lowered the crane so Taeyong could affix his camera to it and rig up a monitor. He carefully skirted around the piles of tools and loose parts between him and Mark so he could take on the role of camera operator. After handing the monitor to Mark and playing around a little bit, he realized his friend was nothing short of a genius. 

“Aww, bro.” 

Oops. He’d said it out loud. Oh well, Mark deserved to know how talented he was. 

“This will work just fine for what I’ve got in mind,” Taeyong said, breathless. “Infinitely better than me fearing for my life as I dangle from a ladder.” 

“Bro, my palms are sweating just thinking about that.” Mark shuddered dramatically.

A loud thump came from the kitchen, causing both of them to nearly jump out of their skins. Taeyong used every ounce of willpower in him to not drop the equipment in his hands. The two of them stood side by side in silence for a long second and slowly (and surely comically) turned to look at each other. Mark laughed nervously.

“What—” Taeyong started.

“That must have been my, uh, cat!” Mark interrupted him, his voice a little too loud. 

Taeyong stared at his friend unblinkingly.

“Bro.”

“What?” Mark asked, volume still most of the way up.

“You’re allergic to cats.”

“Yeah,” Mark said with an admittedly forced-sounding laugh, “so it’s a  _ hairless _ cat. Haven’t had him for long, and he usually doesn’t goof around while company’s over.” That last part was more aimed at the kitchen than at Taeyong. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you got a cat?” Taeyong said with a pout. “You gotta introduce me. I’ve never pet a hairless cat before.”

“Uhh we can see if he’ll come out sometime,” Mark muttered.

“Kind of related,” Taeyong said, gently bringing the camera equipment to a resting position, “we haven’t hung out over here in a while. I miss being on the softest couch in the city for movie night. And I don’t know what it is about your wok, but it makes better popcorn than mine.”

Mark shot him a sheepish smile as he replied, “Sorry, man. I’ve been so busy with work and projects that the clutter just never gets picked up. Cleaning this place is gonna be like...a week-long task at best.”

“That’s it!” Taeyong suggested. “Want me to help you tidy up as payment for all your hard work? Please, I can’t just take this from you.” 

“No no no. Subjecting you to this clutter would be cruel and unusual punishment,” Mark insisted. 

And that was when a very strange series of events began. The refrigerator door swung shut in the next room. Mark jumped at the noise and with a hissed curse nearly dropped the monitor in his hands. Taeyong swayed out of the way and stepped on a pile of loose bolts with a somewhat louder curse. A smooth singing voice came from the kitchen and carried into the living room. Taeyong snapped his head up at the sound and was met with a startling sight.

A young man who he was pretty sure he had never seen before strolled through the living room with closed eyes, listening closely to something playing through a set of earbuds. The man lifted a can of cider to his lips, but he froze like a deer in headlights as he made eye contact with Taeyong. And then every single light around them went out with a loud  _ POP, _ and silence fell over the room. 

“Funny-looking hairless cat,” Taeyong said quietly to Mark before he could stop himself. 

The stranger yanked his earbuds out in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable, looked at Mark, and cartoonishly mouthed “sorry!” Taeyong gave the man a once-over: bleached blond air-dried hair, generally skinny build, pretty face, and...absolutely wearing some of Mark’s old clothes. Mark laughed nervously and tiptoed around the junk on the floor to stand between his friend and the stranger. 

“Look, uhh, I can explain—”

“Is this why I couldn’t come over?” Taeyong interrupted. He leaned to the side to look at the newcomer once again and added, “Hi, I’m Taeyong, by the way.”

The man raised his free hand and waved awkwardly.

“He’s been living with me!” Mark said quickly. “I mean, just recently. Definitely not long.”

Taeyong stared at Mark. Mark stared back. After a moment of silence, Mark’s eyes widened comically and he sputtered, “WAIT. It’s not like that,” at the same time that Taeyong said, “So are you two like…?”

“He’s wearing your clothes, dude,” Taeyong pointed out. 

“It’s laundry day, and he doesn’t have much clothing right now!” Mark insisted.

“You seem like you’ve been doing a lot of lying lately, Mark.”

“I’ve got a good reason. I swear.”

“I’m…” the stranger said in a careful tone, “just gonna go...get some light bulbs. I’ll be right back.” 

“Yeah wait,” Taeyong said. The stranger picked up his pace as he left the room. Taeyong turned to Mark instead and asked, “What was that light bulb stuff all about? I swear if I’m cursed—”

“It’s not you!” Mark said in a rush. “It’s him! This happens. Admittedly not a lot anymore, though. He’s getting better at it.”

Taeyong stood there, mouth open, unsure of how to reply to that. He tried to piece together everything that was happening, and the best story he could come up with was that Mark had gone through such an intense and sudden gay panic that he forgot his best friend was  _ totally cool with these things _ and would happily help him through such a weird stage in his life, and this new boyfriend was rich so the two of them had gotten up to all sorts of cool and distracting things like buying a fancy new car and a hairless cat. He couldn’t figure out where the malfunctioning light bulbs fit into all of that, though. 

“Gonna catch flies like that, bud,” Mark muttered with a distressed look on his face. 

Taeyong snapped his mouth closed and squinted critically at Mark.

“You’d better tell me the truth, dude,” he said, his concern clear in his voice. “You know I care about you, and if anything serious is going on, I’ll be by your side through it.”

Mark nodded and sighed, “This is gonna be a long one. You probably ought to sit down for it.”

* * *

Taeyong finished clearing off the L-shaped couch around the time that Mark and the stranger (whose name Taeyong still hadn’t learned) finished changing every one of the room’s light bulbs. The floor was still a minefield but there were now two clear paths through the clutter instead of one. Taeyong sank into the couch he’d missed so much and watched the stranger closely, less worried than he usually would be about staring. The man seemed anxious but kept shooting Taeyong apologetic grimaces every time they caught each other’s gaze. After screwing in the last light bulb, Mark took the ladder back to the basement, and the stranger wordlessly brought Taeyong a can of soda as a peace offering. 

“What’s your name?” Taeyong asked in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. The stranger frowned and hesitated, as if he were unsure how to respond. Taeyong shifted in his seat and cleared his throat before leaning in and asking, “You do have a name, right?”

The stranger laughed at that and cautiously replied, “Yeah. I’m uh...call me Baekhyun.”

Taeyong nodded and gestured for the stranger to take a seat. Baekhyun sat at the far end of the couch and took an anxious sip of his cider. 

“How do you know Mark?” Taeyong asked as casually as possible.

“We um...met a couple months ago,” Baekhyun replied slowly. “Friends of friends, I guess? We first met at the exhibit you put together around that time.” He paused for a moment and winced as he added, “Sorry about the lights. I really liked the show. I got excited and…” He waved his hand as if to say  _ well, you know _ . Taeyong wasn’t sure he  _ did _ know. 

Mark returned to the room and flopped into the space between Taeyong and Baekhyun on the couch with a loud sigh. 

“So here’s what you need to know before we say too much,” Mark started. “Number one: Baekhyun is here secretly and you can NOT tell anyone his name or why he’s here under ANY circumstances. Number two: we are NOT in a relationship.” 

Taeyong gauged Baekhyun’s reaction to all this. He seemed a bit tickled by Mark’s second point but refrained from commenting. Taeyong nodded and held out a pinky finger to Mark, who reacted with the quick ease of someone who’d made pinky promises a million times. 

“Cool,” Mark continued. “Okay. So. Baekhyun’s on the run from some people who uhh...don’t have his best interests in mind.”

“Have you gone to the police?” Taeyong asked instinctually. 

“No,” Baekhyun and Mark said in unison way too quickly. 

“Are you...on the run from the police?” Taeyong could feel a frown forming on his face as he failed to keep his distress at bay. 

“I’m not exactly a legal citizen,” Baekhyun helpfully provided. Taeyong had to take a deep breath at that one. 

“We could probably fix that quickly, if you wanted. Our country’s pretty decent about those things—”

“Some of the people who are after me are in the government.” 

Taeyong froze. Mark let out another nervous laugh. Baekhyun grinned apologetically. 

“Bro,” Taeyong said gently after a long pause, “what have you gotten yourself in the middle of?”

“I’m making fake documents for him and trying to get his face removed from some databases,” Mark replied, which only only served to escalate Taeyong’s concern. “And in like...a week or two we’re gonna start reaching out to some of his friends—”

“What about the light bulb thing?” Taeyong asked.

“I have...a superhuman ability,” Baekhyun replied.

Taeyong felt his blood run cold. 

“Go on,” he said in a quieter voice than he’d intended. 

“I’m...uhm…” Baekhyun interrupted himself to shoot a quick glance at Mark, who nodded encouragingly. He continued, “I’m not from Earth.”

“Oh,” Taeyong breathed. “So not just an illegal alien, but like...a space alien.” 

“Yes.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as he realized the lead he might have on his own superhuman powers hit a dead end with one sentence. Mark had been right in saying Taeyong would want to be sitting down for this discussion, but it definitely wasn’t for the reasons his friend had thought. They all sat in tense silence for a moment. 

“You two took that better than any of the other humans I’ve told throughout my stay here on Earth,” Baekhyun admitted. “Usually people think I’m lying and expect me to prove it.” 

Taeyong shrugged and replied, “Your accent sounds a little foreign, and you have superpowers, so like...I don’t think I have a reason to not believe you.” 

“That’s basically what I said, too,” Mark admitted. “Anyway, he ran into me in the open air market on the other side of the city, and he recognized me from your gallery show, right? So he told me he was on the run from some people in suits, and we, like, totally  _ Mission: Impossible _ -ed our way out of there. It was honestly pretty awesome.” 

“I’m grateful to finally, one: make a conveniently fast friend, and two: know someone who can drive,” Baekhyun said before tipping back the remainder of his cider. “Technically, I can drive, but I don’t have a car. Or a license. And now I don’t even have money to pay for gas, either, because they found my last alias thanks to the gallery incident.” He pouted and stared into his empty can. 

“So we’ve been studying his powers in the basement,” Mark explained. “I’m hoping we can figure out the basics of how they work so we can prevent future incidents like what happened in the gallery. And what you saw a few minutes ago.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong said with a bewildered sigh, “I’m gonna say this out loud now just so it’s on the record and we have a witness.” He gestured helpfully to Baekhyun. “You can tell me anything, no matter how crazy it is. I’m not a snitch.”

Mark dragged himself out of excited scientist mode to nod seriously.

“I wanted to tell you, but I was scared that maybe admitting to hiding an alien in my basement would be your breaking point with me,” he muttered. “It’s kind of uh...bigger than any of the other secrets I’ve shared with you in the past.”

“Mark, I need you to understand that this is probably the most important stuff for you to tell me.” Taeyong let his friend sit on that for a moment before adding, “It’s also probably one of the coolest things you’ve ever done, and I’d like to be in on cool stuff in general.”

Baekhyun perked up with what Taeyong easily identified as a mischievous glint in his eye. Taeyong watched as he smacked Mark’s shoulder to get his attention and then just stared at him for a couple seconds before Mark launched to his feet with a delighted gasp.

“I can finally show you my research!” Mark exclaimed. “And my machines and my data and oh my gosh there’s so much cool stuff I’ve learned recently.”

“Uhh,” Taeyong responded, a bit frazzled, “I guarantee that I won’t understand most of it without some help, but I’d love to see what you’ve been up to.”

Mark skittered across the cluttered floor and towards the basement door. Taeyong blinked hard in an attempt to recover from the minor case of tonal whiplash that honestly just comes along with being friends with Mark. Taeyong and Baekhyun followed him until they reached the basement door, where Taeyong stopped in his tracks. Something was still bothering him, and he realized that if he asked Mark he might not hear the end of it. At least with Baekhyun he might have a chance of not being teased for the next few weeks over this...or so he hoped.

“Just to clarify,” Taeyong asked quietly, “you guys don’t really have a cat, do you? I’m pretty sure you don’t, but I gotta check.” 

Baekhyun stared back at him like he’d grown a third arm and replied, “No, why?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Taeyong said dismissively. He was suddenly slammed with the realization that he sometimes talked exactly like Mark, and occasionally Mark sounded exactly like him. It wasn’t a disturbing realization, just one of those moments in a friendship when one realizes exactly how close they are to the other person. Taeyong shook his head to clear it, having walked to the foot of the steps while he was stuck in his head. Mark was explaining something about photons and properties of electromagnetic radiation, but all Taeyong could focus on were the strange contraptions that filled his friend’s former storage space. The place had been transformed into a lab over the course of the past couple months, and once again Taeyong was hit with the realization that he hadn’t been over to Mark’s house in far too long. They used to trade back and forth where they would meet each other to hang out, and Taeyong tried hard to not feel hurt that this secret new companion had kept him from visiting properly with his friend for several weeks. 

It was easy to forget his bitterness when Baekhyun leaned in uncomfortably close, said, “Wait. Watch this,” and with just a wave of his hand created a thin shield of light between the two of them. It reminded Taeyong of a show he’d seen as a child that set programmed fountains to music and projected colorful lights and patterns onto the resulting mist like it was a massive movie screen. Someone—surely Mark—grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him over to a monitor, which displayed...something that made Taeyong feel like he was on a paranormal investigation TV show. 

“If I put it on this setting”—yes, the person who’d grabbed him was in fact Mark—“it shows us he’s also creating UV light. And if I put it like this…” Mark pressed a button and the green screen made Taeyong feel even more like he was watching a ghost hunting show. “It shows us he’s fucking with infrared light, too. How cool is that?”

Taeyong nodded with wide eyes. He looked back up at Baekhyun’s display and tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Baekhyun had essentially made something so incredible with minimal effort. Baekhyun giggled as he transformed the display into small, dancing orbs of light around his form.

“And I’ve been studying how his eyes work, right?” Mark rambled. “He was staring directly at the sun once and I wanted to know how the hell that was all about. This guy can see in the dark like owls, but the bright light from the sun doesn’t hurt like hell for some reason. He can see UV and infrared light, and he’s got the most insane color differentiation I’ve ever heard of in a human being. A humanoid? A person? In a person who looks like us.” 

Baekhyun flashed a cheesy smile and floated a couple lights over Taeyong’s head. 

“I promise I won’t keep something like this from you again, bro,” Mark said quietly. “It’s really been eating away at me. Sorry.” 

Taeyong stared at the lights around him and nodded.

“I’m gonna miss class if I don’t leave soon,” he muttered.

“I’ll get your crane done in the next couple days,” Mark declared, “and then you can help me clean up the living room. That sound good?” 

“Sounds excellent.”

Taeyong was late to his class not because Mark had talked his ear off about biology, nor was he late because he got turned around on his way out of the neighborhood. He was in fact late because he absolutely took a few minutes to look over the sleek car in Mark’s driveway on his way out. Mark was right—if his coworkers had any amount of taste they’d be fighting over this thing the moment it pulled back into the company garage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all got to wait an extra week because I didn't get a comment until really late in the game on the last chapter LMAO  
> That and the fact that I had a weeklong writer's block. But you're getting rewarded anyway. Posting a bonus chapter tonight as well, so keep an eye out on my user page for that!


	9. TEN | BAEKHYUN | KAI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the moment Ten woke up he knew he was going to have an exhausting day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Does it worry you to be alone?  
> How do I feel by the end of the day?  
> Are you sad because you're on your own?  
> No, I get by with a little help from my friends!”
> 
> \----
> 
> Okay so! I know pretty much none of you follow my [tumblr account](http://exocinematicuniverse.tumblr.com) where I've been posting updates about my writing process, but I'll summarize it here as best as I can. The past few months sure have been a thing! And my mental health has decidedly not been the best. As a result, my ability to write slowed down significantly for a few weeks. 
> 
> After this next update, I think I’m gonna edit the earlier chapters so they’re less...weird. A little bit of background info about me: I have a film degree with an emphasis in screenwriting. I’m using Dreamers as an exercise to get back into the groove of writing narrative/prose-style fiction. As a result, everything in early chapters was very…robotic? Very action and dialogue oriented. Not much useful exposition on the setting or insight into characters’ thoughts. I feel like if I fix that then everything will feel a bit smoother as I move forward with the story.
> 
> tl;dr I'm gonna do some much-needed world-building work on this fic, go back and edit chapters 1-7, and hopefully by the end of that we'll have a much more immersive and well-organized story. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience, everyone. I really appreciate it. Have ~10,000 words.

From the moment Ten woke up he knew he was going to have an exhausting day. The final performance space for his senior project was in the basement of one of the fine arts buildings, and the last people who used it had absolutely  _ not _ abided by the Girl Scout Law and had in fact left that place _ much worse  _ than they had found it. No one had to tell him about it — he could just see it in his mind. This vision had a much longer projection than the average one, which had become a common occurrence since his rooftop episode with Jongin...the explanation of which had actually gone over much smoother than anticipated. Jongin seemed to be very receptive to the idea of Ten having some kind of extrasensory perception, which meant one of two things: either he was incredibly gullible and trusted Ten to not be pulling his leg, or he absolutely believed in the paranormal. Either way, he seemed to adjust easily and asked fewer questions than Ten had expected. 

In any case, over the past week, Ten had been repeatedly blindsided with visions of events anywhere from a few seconds to an entire hour before they would happen. It was admittedly a little disorienting at first, but he’d like to think he’d gotten a grip on it by this point. The tiny part of him that was still convinced his visions were symptoms of some undiagnosable mental illness was horrified by all of this and had occasionally sent him into a round of silent panic in the middle of campus. Thankfully, the fact that Jongin had continued to have dreams of the blond stranger solidified his understanding that yes, this was all real. Ten still hadn’t given his friend a rundown of all of his significant blond stranger visions, but he’d shown off a bit of his artwork and Jongin had quickly confirmed that this was the exact person he’d seen every night for the past couple weeks. Why specifically the two of them were seeing this person was still a mystery. 

More specifically, it was a mystery for another day. Ten rolled himself out of bed, relieved that he’d accidentally woken up an entire hour earlier than he’d intended, and unplugged his phone. Taeyong was an early riser, these days. Surely he’d be able to bring some cleaning supplies from his place after some bribery on Ten’s part. Last week, Taeyong had complained that he rarely got to swing by his favorite café on campus anymore thanks to his various end of year projects. Ten wanted to tell his friend that if he hadn’t been such a yes man last semester, he would probably have more time to do what he wanted, but Ten was a nice person so he held his tongue. 

After shooting Taeyong a quick text, Ten threw a bag together for the rest of the day—the usual change of clothes, water bottle, deodorant, etc.—and booked it to get to the cafe before lunch hour traffic could get in his way. As he arrived, beating the crowd in record time, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Without checking, he ordered Taeyong’s favorite smoothie—melon and yogurt—and a mocha with extra chocolate syrup for himself. (He needed all that sugar for the amount of work he was about to do.) 

He checked his phone quickly and, sure enough, Taeyong had come through:

_ TY, 10:35 _   
**pls i’d kill for u i’d love a melon yogurt smoothie** **  
** **i’ll be there in 20**

Ten giggled to himself and sent back a thumbs-up. He resisted the instinct to laugh louder as an employee tentatively called out a butchered version of his given name. He used to be annoyed by baristas’ inability to spell or read it, but now it was just entertaining to see what creative conclusions they would reach without help. A crowd had gathered in the short amount of time it took for him to place and receive his order, so he did his best to weave through the crowd of exhausted students and faculty to continue his trek across campus. At least it was a beautiful, sunny spring day. All morning the university landscapers had been hard at work planting new beds of vibrant flowers and tending to lawns that had been neglected during the cold season. Ten made a mental note to swing by a pharmacy for allergy medication — such a beautiful view was always worth the annual fight against pollen allergies. 

After a shortcut through the art museum, Ten arrived at his destination and took in his dreadful surroundings. There was no telling what exactly the room’s previous occupants had been up to; paint, fabric scraps, some dusty mess, and miscellaneous trash littered the floor...maybe there had been some sort of printmaking party? All Ten could think about was how grateful he was to have a friend who was in possession of entirely too many cleaning supplies. 

Taeyong arrived exactly when he’d promised, lugging a broom and dustpan, a compact vacuum, and a bag full of rags and various cleaning solutions. He wordlessly dropped everything and plucked his smoothie off the ground where it sat next to Ten and took a long sip.

“Thank you so much,” Taeyong whined. “This is amazing. You even got a large. You’re my new best friend.”

“Mark might be a little sad to hear that,” Ten said as he snatched up the broom and got to work. Taeyong moved tables and chairs and wiped down the few they’d need. It took about forty minutes to get everything done, but it felt like no time at all once they were in the zone. As much as Ten hated his current circumstances, there was something satisfying about standing in the doorway and observing the fruits of his and Taeyong’s labors. The room looked good as new — the only thing they couldn’t take care of were the white floors and walls, which desperately needed fresh coats of paint (but didn’t every room in the art department?). He shot a quick email to his thesis director to inquire about using the remainder of his budget to fix up university property. Surely the department heads wouldn’t mind a bit of help in that area. 

Dancers arrived slowly but surely, and after an awkward walk-through, a few good runs with counts, and a final few runs with music, Ten felt pretty confident about how everything was coming together. He suppressed his perfectionist urges for once in favor of wrapping the practice on time. He’d just stay back and practice on his own for a little while. 

After Taeyong finished taking notes on camera movements and organizing a tentative shot list, he lounged on the floor and watched Ten’s solo version of the dance. He claimed he had all day to go pick up the rig at Mark’s house and he missed hanging out with Ten. That earned him an eyeroll; Ten knew damn well that he was just trying to procrastinate his editing projects, but he wasn’t about to say no to some friendly company. (And he’d certainly never turn away an audience.) After a few runs, Ten caved to his aching lungs and lay down in the middle of the floor to catch his breath. 

“So,” he gasped, “talk to me about Mark. What’s he up to?” 

Taeyong hummed and paced around the room.

“He got a new roommate a little while ago,” Taeyong said slowly with a noticeable pout. “Cool guy. Only met him once ‘cause Mark’s got so many projects going he never has time to hang out anymore. Upsetting.”

“Very upsetting,” Ten confirmed.

“You’ve been busy, too,” Taeyong lamented as he took a seat on the floor just a couple feet away.

“I’ve been hanging with Jongin a lot lately,” Ten explained. “He’s been helping me with my choreo. He’s also going through a lot right now, and I don’t think he’s got anyone to talk to at length, which is sad to think about, so I’ve kinda forced him to lean on me.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Taeyong said. “Anything I can do to help either of you out?”

“Yeah, actually.” Ten rolled onto his front and propped himself up on his elbows as he asked, “His friend’s gone missing. Like, suddenly and inexplicably dropped off the map missing.”

“Oh geez, that’s gotta be scary.”

“Yeah, he’s really messed up over it. So like...here, bring me my phone, will you? I don’t think my legs are working right now.” 

Taeyong patted his friend’s shoulder and fetched the phone. After a minute of scrolling through his DMs with Jongin, Ten found the blurry photo he’d been sent sometime last week. So far, no one he’d shown it to had any idea who the guy was, but they all said they’d keep an eye out for him. He only reported one in every few disappointments back to Jongin, not wanting to feed his stress any more than was absolutely necessary. He slid his phone across the floor, and Taeyong caught it. 

Two seconds later Taeyong’s eyes had widened to a size Ten had previously thought impossible. He jumped and his hand flew to his back pocket, where his own phone was.

“Aah! I’m getting a call! Gimme a sec—”

Taeyong was absolutely  _ not _ getting a call, but Ten just wordlessly watched his friend skip out the door to the room with a locked phone at his ear, saying, “Hello? I’m a little busy right now, what’s up?” 

Ten sat in confused silence for a long couple of minutes. He slid over to his phone and checked a couple social media apps to pass the time, but it was really just for the sake of keeping his hands busy while his mind raced a mile a minute. That had been a severe reaction to one halfway decent photo of a guy. Maybe he was about to finally get somewhere with this search. One lead was all he needed to put Jongin at ease again. Any sign the guy was alive…

A few seconds before Taeyong returned to the room, Ten saw the scene begin: Taeyong had a lead.

Taeyong jogged back into the room and deliberately put his phone down near the door. Ten just watched with what he was sure must have been a bewildered expression as Taeyong also picked  _ his _ phone up off the floor and put it about twenty feet away. Taeyong sat down in front of him again and let out a sigh.

“Okay,” he whispered, “Mark told me to be paranoid about this, so sorry—”

“What?” Ten said back. Taeyong hushed him, so he continued a little quieter, “Do you know something?” 

“I know where he is. I saw him the other day.”

Ten blinked hard. Okay, so this was a  _ big _ lead.

“Is he okay?” Ten asked. “Jongin’s been so worried—”

“He’s hiding out someplace in town,” Taeyong whispered. “Mark’s been...helping him? Keeping him under the radar, erasing his digital identity, re-building a new identity for him, all that weird, like, spy movie stuff.”

“Is he in trouble?” Ten asked with great urgency. Jongin hadn’t elaborated on why exactly he couldn’t go to the police about the situation, and Ten figured they just weren’t close enough for him to feel comfortable sharing the reason yet. 

“Yes. Kind of. He’s safer now than he was a few months ago ‘cause Mark’s been up to his hacking nonsense again, but he’s still staying in one place for the time being, not reaching out to anyone just in case.”

“Do you know who he’s in trouble with? Or are you not at liberty to say?” Ten asked, concern leaking into his voice. “Is Mark getting in over his head with this? Are  _ you _ ?”

“I don’t know!” Taeyong said. He winced at his voice’s volume and leaned in closer to Ten as he whispered again. “I asked Mark, though, and he said I should go talk to him myself about it. I’ve got a key to his place, and I need to pick up the rig anyway—”

“So he’s just hiding out at Mark’s house?” Ten asked, rocketing back to his and Jongin’s bicycle ride through Mark’s neighborhood. That had been just a few days ago. They’d been  _ so close _ and were none the wiser. After all, how would they have known to ask Mark of all people about Baekhyun?

Taeyong nodded his head, and Ten let out a long sigh.

“Well, I suppose I should tell Jongin, yeah?” Ten suggested.

“I’ll ask Baekhyun if he’s okay with having visitors at this point,” Taeyong replied. “He’s pretty freaked out still, but I hope he’ll make an exception for a close friend.” 

“Keep me updated,” Ten said with an understanding nod. He rose to his feet and held out a hand for his friend. “I’ll have my ringer on, and I’ll be on campus all day. Tell me as soon as I can say anything to Jongin.”

Taeyong nodded, a look of apprehension still on his face as he accepted the offered hand. They gathered their equipment in silence. Ten almost forgot to ask for his phone back after all that; he wondered how he was going to get through his afternoon classes with such a clouded mind. Thankfully he had some time to go sit in the sun, listen to some music, and process everything. 

Ten stopped in his tracks and caught Taeyong by the arm as the rest of their conversation finally sank in.

“Wait,” he said, “you’re telling me that your best friend is a talented hacker?” 

An exasperated puff of breath left Taeyong as he pulled an odd face and nodded.

“He gets up to all sorts of stupid shit,” he admitted. “I’m shocked he hasn’t been caught by anyone important yet. He should definitely have a criminal record by now.” After a quiet laugh, he added, “He’s probably the reason I miraculously passed my required science courses back in sophomore year.”

Ten shook his head and gave Taeyong a gentle pat on the back.

“Honey, you should have been able to do that on your own. It was geology 101.”

“It was a 9 AM lecture with a 7:30 AM lab,” Taeyong whined, “I would have failed no matter how hard I tried!”

“Oh dear,” Ten laughed. “Well, you keep in touch today, okay? I wanna hear you geek out over how cool this rig is. Among other things, of course.”

Taeyong nodded and gave a quick salute before taking off towards a nearby parking garage. The tension in Ten’s shoulders had become unbearable, so he sacrificed his usual walking speed to focus on relaxing a bit. Being so high-strung really was doing more harm than good, these days. Maybe he needed to lay off coffee a bit...do some more yoga…

Ten dropped to the ground as soon as he arrived at the library lawn. Maybe lazing in the sun could force him to calm down a bit. He flipped on his ringer, pillowed his dance bag under his head, and forced himself to take a series of deep breaths. Everything would be fine. Everything had to be fine. If everything didn’t work out...no. He wouldn’t let himself think like that. For now, all he could do was wait and hope for the best. 

* * *

Baekhyun did not expect Taeyong to be the person on the other side of the basement door when he answered the usual morse code knock. He was momentarily relieved when he noticed Taeyong was holding a key to Mark’s house, but when he saw the way the boy anxiously fidgeted with it, his pessimist brain automatically activated and a sense of dread took over instead. Was Mark okay? Had they been compromised? There were so many ways their plans could have gone wrong while he’d spent the day shacked up in the basement, playing with Mark’s old GameCube. His worries grew exponentially when Taeyong sheepishly asked, “You know a guy named Kim Jongin, right?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun sputtered. He was putting most of his willpower into slowing his anxious heartbeat and had none left to keep up a calm and collected exterior. “Is he okay?” 

“Yes, he’s fine,” Taeyong said with a wave of his hands. “I mean, kind of? He’s not in your situation or anything. But uhh...here, let’s talk in the kitchen or something.”

Baekhyun shuffled after Taeyong, not entirely comforted by that response. How could Kai only be kind of fine? He hated being so out of the loop, having been a major messenger between members of the...family? (He and his fellow non-Earthling friends really needed to come up with a word for their group.) Unfortunately, the isolation he’d been forced to endure while on the run had really messed with him. He constantly worried about the rest of them. If he’d been spotted, then anyone nearby could be in danger. Kai was better at being low-key than him, but that didn’t stop the anxiety that consumed Baekhyun every night before bed. 

“So he’s safe...but not fine?” Baekhyun asked. He sat down for all of maybe two seconds before he felt the need to move again. He paced the length of the kitchen as Taeyong raided Mark’s refrigerator, quickly finding some fresh cut watermelon in a tupperware container, and plucked a clean fork off the drying rack.

“He’s safe but he’s super worried about you,” Taeyong explained. “You like...just went straight into hiding without telling anyone, you know?”

“If I’d reached out to him I could have led them right to him,” Baekhyun said in a harsher tone than he’d intended. He took a calming breath and continued a little more gently. “Who knows if they’d hacked my phone or whatever.” 

“That makes sense,” Taeyong reassured him through a mouthful of fruit. “We’ve got a good mutual friend, and the two of them have been looking for you everywhere. Do you think it’s safe for him to come over here just so he can confirm you’re okay?”

Baekhyun resisted the urge to bite his nails as he leaned against the counter and mulled over the idea. He desperately wanted to see Kai again. He wanted a long hug. He wanted to ask how everyone was doing. He wanted to hear about all the drama in the dance department. He just wanted his friend back. But would it still be better to not risk it? Mark’s house was safe, and as long as Baekhyun didn’t leave before Mark gave him the go-ahead, surely it would be fine. The fact that Mark and Kai had mutual friends meant a visit to the house wouldn’t be suspicious to anyone who  _ could _ be watching. It all felt too good to be true, but then again, hadn’t everything been too good to be true for the past several weeks?

“If Mark says it’s okay,” he said slowly, “then I guess I don’t really see the harm in it.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Taeyong observed. Baekhyun scowled. He grabbed a clean fork for himself, dropped into a free chair at the table, and tugged the tub of watermelon away from Taeyong. His stuffed-cheek pout earned him a laugh from the human, which made him feel a little better. 

“I’m...yeah, I’m sure,” he said once he had the capacity to speak again. “I’m naturally pretty worried, myself, but I don’t really see any obvious flaws with the plan. I miss him a lot.”

Taeyong smiled and nodded. He reached across the table and grabbed a tiny chunk of fruit before whipping out his cellphone and tapping something out on it. Baekhyun suddenly realized he should probably get a new phone sometime soon. Mark was cautious about a lot of major phone brands and insisted on jailbreaking whatever Baekhyun got for himself, which implied that he would be getting himself a smartphone. As much as he enjoyed taking photos and videos, though, he could just as easily do that on someone else’s device and save himself the hassle of managing his own pocket-sized computer. Plus there was something satisfying about the way he could fidget with one of those QWERTY phones that slide open and closed that a smartphone just couldn’t provide him. 

They sat there in silence for a long moment. Well, it would have been silent if there was any quiet way to eat large chunks of watermelon. In any case, Baekhyun got the first chance to study Taeyong since their initial meeting just a few days prior. He was often grateful for his ability to sense when people were uncomfortable or lost in important thought; it was something to do with the extraverted people pleaser part of him, which was simultaneously the bane of his existence and his greatest non-magical asset. He never knew exactly what to do with it when it came to humans, though. 

The easiest solution for any species of sentient creatures was usually just to be up front about it. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Baekhyun asked Taeyong after the man spent an entire two minutes alternating between frowning silently at the watermelon and emitting frustrated sighs. Taeyong contorted his face in a comical fashion and exhaled through his teeth.

“A lot of thoughts, I see,” Baekhyun mused.

“Yeah, but like, just a couple important ones,” Taeyong said. He hesitated for a moment. After another painful silence, he looked up at Baekhyun — which was an odd experience because Baekhyun was fairly certain he was the shorter one here — and asked, “Can you keep a secret?”

Baekhyun opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. He shut it, took a deep breath, and tried again.

“You’re asking the alien in the house if he can keep a secret?”

Taeyong laughed nervously and said, “I mean, can you keep other people’s secrets? Like...from everyone? If you know it’s not your strong suit, I’ll talk about something else. Like you said, there’s a lot on my mind.”

“Well, you can’t back out of this particular thought now,” Baekhyun balked. “You’ve gotta follow through. Hell yes, I can keep a secret. What’s up?”

“Okay,” Taeyong said with a sigh, “it might take me a sec to wind up to it because I’ve never told another person about this, so bear with me.”

Baekhyun rested his chin in his hands and leaned forward in an attempt to appear more attentive and said, “I’m all ears.”

For a couple troublesome seconds, Taeyong looked like he was about to faint. Baekhyun’s mind raced as he thought of all the human first aid he’d picked up over the years, but thankfully he was distracted quickly from this distressing train of thought when Taeyong spoke again.

“Have you ever encountered humans with like...weird gifts like yours? Like the magic-y thing you do. You said your people do stuff like that, right? Can humans do that stuff too?”

“Not that I’m aware of?” Baekhyun said with a frown and a shrug. “You people have an absolute ton of stories about superhumans, ESPers, and demigods and such — some of which are about us, by the way, which is hilarious to me for a variety of reasons — but I’ve never seen a human with magic like ours.”

“And you’re studying how your powers work with Mark’s help, right?” Taeyong asked. He fidgeted with his fork and bounced a leg under the table. Baekhyun raised a curious eyebrow as the overhead light flickered after a couple particularly strong bounces. 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said. “I gotta admit, I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“Do you have any leads?” Taeyong asked, looking a bit more sheepish again.

“We don’t know exactly how I can do these things in a scientific sense, but I know they’re a gift from the Tree of Life.”

Taeyong stared at him like he was crazy. Baekhyun shrugged again.

“Like...the bible tree of life?” Taeyong asked.

“Like all those trees of life,” Baekhyun clarified. “You all have this cool masterplot in cultures all around the world about a tree that gives life, sustains life, makes up a multiverse, and so on. It’s awesome, and I have no idea how you got knowledge of the real thing. Theories about the collective human unconscious seem pretty legit when you’re looking at everything from our perspective.”

Taeyong stared at him with a blank expression.

“Dude,” he said, “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Come on,” Baekhyun whined. “You’re about to graduate university! Didn’t you have to learn some Jungian theory or study ancient mythology at some point?”

“Maybe,” Taeyong squeaked. “I don’t know! I sure don’t remember anything like that.”

“Whatever,” Baekhyun groaned. He was more teasing the guy than anything at this point, but he was beginning to worry a bit about the quality of the nation’s public education system. “What’s the secret? That you like Superman?”

“Uhh…” Taeyong trailed off with another nervous laugh. “Okay, so like, back on track, can you tell if someone’s not human? Do you have any way of sensing that or testing for that?”

Baekhyun frowned and shook his head slowly as he replied, “No...but we’re pretty aware of all the actual extraterrestrial phenomena that have occurred in the past um...three thousand years? I haven’t been keeping track of the timeline, that’s someone else’s job. Can’t say the same for all unexplained Earthly phenomena. It’s possible people out there have magic like ours, but we figure they would have made themselves known to us by now.”

Taeyong let out a shaky sigh. “Okay. Cool. Awesome.”

“Taeyong, are you okay?” Baekhyun asked as gently as possible.

“Uh...not really.”

Baekhyun really didn’t know what to do with that. He kind of floundered for a moment before scooting the watermelon container back over to Taeyong in hopes that the friendly gesture would be understood. Thankfully they appeared to be on the same wavelength because Taeyong instantly shoved a large chunk of fruit into his mouth while he frowned down at the table. 

“You wanna tell me why you’ve got all these questions?” Baekhyun asked. “I don’t wanna assume anything about your life, but you seem…” He gestured vaguely into the open air, unsure of where to take the sentence. He could think of the word in his native language, but he was coming up short with Earthly languages. Taeyong waved a hand as if he understood what he was implying, which was a relief.

“This is the secret part, okay?” Taeyong said once he finished chewing. “You can’t even tell Mark.”

Baekhyun frowned at that but nodded slowly in agreement. He was being trusted over one of Taeyong’s closest and oldest friends? What could possibly trouble this boy in such a peculiar way that he felt he couldn’t tell another person until he met an alien with magic light powers?

His question was answered as someone tapped him on the shoulder. Horrified that he hadn’t heard anyone approach him from behind, Baekhyun whipped around, fork wielded like a weapon, to find...Taeyong? Kai had pulled the same prank on him repeatedly the whole time they’d spent living in this city; he’d blink out of existence before Baekhyun’s eyes and appear behind him with a quiet, “Boo!” Could Taeyong teleport…? Baekhyun slowly turned back to face...Taeyong, who was still sitting across the table from him, waiting for a reaction with a pained smile. There were two of them. Baekhyun whipped his head back around to face the second Taeyong. He reached out a tentative hand to poke him.

He was solid. Matter that impossibly appeared out of thin air. The double was real. 

“How…?”

“I can uhh...replicate myself,” Taeyong said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how…? I just kind of think about something I want, and I get this feeling”—he wiggled his fingers around one of his temples to demonstrate—“and I can use that feeling to do something about it. Then one of these guys appears.”

“What...I have so many questions,” Baekhyun stammered. “How long can you do it? How many can you make? Are they their own beings or part of you? What the hell?”

“They’re part of me,” Taeyong started, “and uhh...I like...if they get hurt, I feel it, but only kind of distantly? Never did extensive testing with that ‘cause it freaks me out. They all think like me and talk like me, but I can hold conversations with them as if they’re separate people. I can’t control them like puppets or anything, I can only influence them. They’re like...really agreeable clones that get absorbed back into me when I dismiss them. I don’t know how to explain how I know that, I just do. You know?”

Baekhyun did not, in fact, know. He stared at Taeyong, this fascinating human specimen, in awe. He’d never seen anything like it. In a sense, he was familiar with the idea of having an ability and generally understanding how it worked before ironing out the science or technical specifics, but creating a physical form out of nothing? Not just manipulating the natural world? That concept was incredibly foreign to him. It was the same reason Kai, Luhan, and Tao’s powers all baffled him. Most of his family (he supposed he’d have to call them family, at this point, because that’s how he felt about them all) just accepted their gifts without question. He was starting to wish they’d all been a bit more curious from the start. 

“Anyway,” Taeyong continued, “the greatest number I’ve reached has been uhh...somewhere around twenty? They become really hard to control, at that point, and often just end up acting on instinct or remaining idle until I re-absorb them. They usually last until I get too tired to focus on them, which depends on how many I have going and how hard their tasks are. If it’s getting one to tap you on the shoulder and then just chill out with us, I can keep it up for hours. If it’s like...getting one to drive a car or something, I can only keep it up for one hour max. If it’s running a mile for gym class and pretending to be me so as not to raise suspicion, it’s about fifteen minutes. And I get a bit exhausted after they return to me.” 

“So...you’re interested in figuring out what the hell’s happening to you,” Baekhyun said. Taeyong nodded. They stared at each other for a long moment. The double sat down in the third chair at the table and stole Taeyong’s fork to eat a piece of watermelon. 

“So what happens to the watermelon?” Baekhyun asked before he could stop himself.

“What?”

“What happens to the watermelon? Your double eats it, and he becomes one with you at the end of all this, so do you feel full if he eats food? Or does it just disappear?”

“No clue,” Taeyong said with a shrug. “They’ve never eaten much more than just a snack here or there.”

“Do you want more food?” Baekhyun asked the double. 

“Nah, this is fine, but thanks,” the double responded. It sounded and moved exactly the same as Taeyong...prime? The original Taeyong?  _ Hmm... _

“Okay,” Baekhyun said, feeling the blood drain from his face as the double carried on munching. “So I have just one more question. Why don’t you want Mark to know about this?”

Taeyong worried his lip and leaned forward in his seat but remained silent. It was clear that he had a decent amount of internal conflict about this subject. If he were in Taeyong’s position, though, Baekhyun thinks he probably would have told Mark about this ages ago. These two boys were each other’s confidants since childhood. How much effort had Taeyong put into keeping this secret for so long?

“How about this: an easier but related question,” Baekhyun posed. “How long have you been able to do this?”

“Since I was a kid,” Taeyong replied, “but I don’t know exactly how old I was. I remember the moment I wished someone would help me climb a fence so I could go pet the neighbor’s dog, and next thing I knew there was another me there. I knew it wasn’t normal, so I kept my mouth shut about it.”

“Mark’s your best friend and the very definition of ‘geek,’ Taeyong,” Baekhyun reasoned. “Why wouldn’t you tell him about this? He’s a good guy, he wouldn’t treat you like a lab rat. As a person he’s studying, I think I can testify that he’s still a pretty good friend even though we run experiments on me all the time. He got past the asking too many questions stage within the first week, which was pretty impressive given how he never seems to run out of questions.”

Taeyong let out a long and loud sigh. The double pouted and handed the fork back with a meaningful look. Taeyong snapped his fingers and the double vanished. He poked at a piece of fruit a few times before giving up on the idea of eating it. 

“I feel bad about it,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know if he’d be cool about it until he met you and took you in. And now I know he’d be great about it, but it’s so late in the game that I feel like he’d be hurt that I kept it from him all this time.”

“I agree that he’ll probably feel a bit stung by it,” Baekhyun admitted, “but better late than never, yeah? And he’d be able to help you with all your questions.”

Taeyong nodded and slouched in his seat.

“I’ll do something about it eventually. I just felt the need to tell you ‘cause maybe you knew something about superhumans? I don’t know.”

“Don’t feel too discouraged,” Baekhyun said as he eyed the nearly empty tupperware container between them, disappointed by the small, pale pieces that remained. “It’ll all work out in the end.” 

Taeyong nodded solemnly. 

“Can I tell you something that might make you feel better?” Baekhyun asked. It wasn’t necessarily his place to say this, but like he said, everything should work out fine in the end. 

“Go for it.”

“Jongin’s an alien, too.”

For the second time that afternoon, Baekhyun thought Taeyong was going to faint right then and there. He couldn’t help the peal of laughter that erupted from him. 

“You’re joking?” Taeyong said, but it came out more like a question.

“Nope,” Baekhyun said with a mischievous grin. 

With that, Taeyong snatched the watermelon container off the table and shoved another piece in his mouth as he rose to his feet. He abandoned a cackling Baekhyun in favor of looking at the camera rig in the next room. 

“So when’s Jongin coming over?” Baekhyun called out from his place at the kitchen table. 

Taeyong said something through a mouthful of watermelon that sounded a lot like, “Fuck if I know.” 

* * *

Kai was actively experiencing the worst headache of his life. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was the horrible amount of sodium he’d eaten as a result of having had little motivation to make anything other than instant noodles for himself for the past few days. Either way, he was grateful that human biology mostly resembled his own, because if it weren’t for over-the-counter painkillers, he was certain that he would have been in deep trouble hours ago. 

For the time being, he had to force himself to only care about the hot shower that awaited him at home. A guest choreographer had visited one of his classes today, and it had provided an incredible distraction for a glorious 75 or so minutes. Dancing was always good for that purpose. He had to admit he hadn’t been coping well before class began, and now that his body was still again, he felt the weight of it all come crashing down on him. 

That was how he managed to blindly run into someone right outside the studio. He glanced up and hoped his face didn’t turn too red when he saw exactly who he’d collided with: it was the guest choreographer, Shim Changmin. The man had the ideal body type for a professional dancer: long but not lanky (he towered noticeably over Kai by a few inches), lean yet muscular, masculine and graceful. His wide, friendly eyes bored deep into a person’s soul...in the best way possible, though. A natural charisma radiated from him, creating a kind and magnetic presence that one couldn’t help but be drawn to. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be in town for another week, but he had apparently claimed that he would have felt guilty if he didn’t set aside some time to swing by his  _ alma mater _ . After loosening up the class with some jokes about swinging weapons around to blow off some end-of-the-academic-year steam, he had begun to feel a bit more like a fellow dancer and a lot less like an untouchable national treasure. 

Well, “national treasure” might be laying it on a bit heavy. The students in Kai’s class were all simply starstruck by any visitor who had managed to make a profession out of doing what they loved. It was like looking at the best version of their future selves.

And now Kai was back to being stunned by the man’s presence, the illusion of familiarity shattered after the rest of his class packed up and left. He bowed apologetically, pulled his earbuds out, and stuttered out a quick, “Sorry! Thank you for taking time to visit us.” 

“Oh, no worries. The pleasure was all mine!” Changmin said, a gentle smile gracing his features. “I actually was hoping to catch you on your way out, ah…”

“Jongin,” Kai provided, trying not to look like a deer caught in headlights as he made accidental eye contact. He felt like he couldn’t look away, trapped under the man’s gaze. How could he feel so intimidated yet so welcome all at once? Changmin pulled him over to the side of the hallway so as not to block foot traffic and cleared his throat.

“Jongin. Pleasure to meet you. You have a natural talent in  _ geommu* _ ! You had quite the leading presence among your classmates. With such precise movements, I wondered: have you studied this technique in the past?”

Kai could say, “ _Yes, I was there when they formally dedicated the dance to the late Hwangchang of Silla_ _ , back before it was performed primarily by women _ ,” but he knew better than to brag by now, so instead he said, “Ah, yes, I learned a bit, but I think my body remembers it better than my mind does, at this point. It was a long time ago.” 

“I would regret staying silent about this, so I must take a moment to encourage you to continue studying it,” Changmin said. Kai couldn’t tell if the man was intentionally turning his charm up to eleven or if that was just how he lived every second of his life. He passed Kai a very professional-looking card with his name, business email, and studio address on it. “You have a natural talent! I’d love to have a longer chat with you in the future.”

Kai nodded enthusiastically, gently taking the card with both hands. Changmin made a noise of protest and patted his shoulder gently, adding a quick, “Ah, young man you’re too formal. It’s just cardstock.”

It was  _ not _ just cardstock. It was networking. It was a potential friendship. And Kai hadn’t even needed help to take the first step, this time. He was always a bit shy around Earthlings, and often wound up a bit more isolated than he intended when left to his own devices. This was why he’d teamed up with Baekhyun for this current stint in South Korea; he needed a mentor in the field of Earthly social interaction, and Baekhyun was an expert in the field. Now he was all alone, again, and he’d mostly reverted back to his old ways (not helped by the fact that he was obsessed with finding his missing friend). Or so he’d thought. He’d gotten lucky, and he couldn’t help but show a bit of excess gratitude. 

“Thank you,” Kai said. “Unfortunately I don’t have a card of my own to exchange…”

“That’s fine!” Changmin said as he hefted his bag onto his shoulder. “If you lose it, you can always send your professor a message and she’ll pass along my information.” 

“Thank you,” Kai said again. He sounded like a broken record. How embarrassing. Changmin smiled and said a quick farewell as he walked away.

That was when Kai’s brain sort of broke for a minute. It took him a little too long to realize a familiar voice was calling his name somewhere nearby. He shook his head to clear the brain fog and spun around as someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Earth to Jongin!”

Ten stepped into his line of sight, dressed in clothes absolutely  _ not _ fit for dance and face carefully decorated with barely-there makeup...which meant he must have come from somewhere else, and if he was picking up his friend’s signals right, Kai was pretty sure Ten had been looking for him. Kai carefully tucked the business card into his phone case as his friend started babbling.

“Have you been checking your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon, but you weren’t responding, so I started looking for you, but your schedule’s weird because you’re a grad student and we’re in the latter part of the semester, so like...yeah. Thank fuck your 4 PM was the same. Are you okay?” 

Kai blinked hard and lowered his gaze to his phone. He must have forgotten to turn off “do not disturb” after class let out. He quickly rectified that, taking note of the outrageous number of notifications that popped up across a few different messaging apps. He grimaced and looked apologetically up at Ten. 

“I didn’t check my phone. Sorry. I’m decent. What’s up?”

“You should come with me to Mark’s tonight,” Ten said with a grin. 

“All that for...a party?” Kai asked, more than a little puzzled. He was pretty sure the tone he’d picked up from Ten was a bit more urgent than that, but maybe he was more out of it than he’d initially thought. “Uhh...I’ll think about it, I guess? I’ve been feeling odd all day. How important is it?”

“You don’t want to miss it, okay? Trust me.”

Kai wasn’t sure he wanted to trust something so vague. A social gathering sounded like the last thing he wanted, but maybe that was because he was due for a shower and a power nap. He rarely regretted spending time with Ten’s friends, but it wasn’t every day that he was simultaneously searching for his missing friend and making all sorts of semester-end preparations every day of the week. He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.  _ Caving to peer pressure once again _ , as Baekhyun would have said. 

Ten worried his rose-tinted lip as Kai took a moment to weigh his options. After a few too many seconds, he added, a little quieter, “I’ve been instructed to not give details, I’m sorry. It’s not my choice, but I still have to uphold an ounce of my honor, you know? I could live with spilling secrets, but then nobody would trust me with anything for a while, and I can’t stand not being in the loop about things. But then again, I hate leaving my friends out of the loop—”

“Secrets?” Kai asked. “There are secrets involved? You know what, wait. First: Mark’s the guy we ran into on our bike ride, right? How do you know him again?”

“He’s Taeyong’s close friend.” Ten looked pretty relieved that Kai had cut him off, but his expression shifted to incredulity as Kai stared blankly back at him, desperately trying to remember which friend Taeyong was. As he opened his mouth to ask, Ten sighed and offered, “Taeyong’s the one from the art museum, remember?” 

“Aah!” Kai exclaimed as it all clicked. “The art director friend! The film guy! Right. I liked him.” 

“And the secrets...let me just say the goal of this little shindig is to make you feel better, okay? Go get freshened up and meet me at the south side of the union building in like...an hour.” Ten scanned Kai’s appearance and squinted his black-and-blue lined eyes and added, “Actually, make that an hour thirty. Take a power nap.” Kai opened his mouth to ask one last question but was cut off again. “Don’t worry about bringing anything, I’m supplying, like, half the booze.”

“Do you also read minds?” Kai asked with an exasperated laugh. Ten giggled and rolled his eyes.

“No,” he said quietly, “I just see like...five seconds into the future at all times.”

Kai had to keep a schooled expression as he suddenly realized the reason he’d never won a game of rock-paper-scissors with Ten. Or a game of cards.  _ How frustrating _ . Maybe one of these days he’d share some of his own secrets with Ten, like how exactly he’d managed to abandon him in the biology department’s haunted house fundraiser last semester. (He’d just been too freaked out and instinctually noped out, only to realize far too late that he didn’t know how to ctrl + z his way back inside so as not to thoroughly ditch his friend.) Or how he’d managed to produce an obscene number of snacks every time they went to a movie theater. (He always teleported in and hid them ahead of time.) Until then, maybe he’d feel a little less bad about the temptation to pull pranks on his friend. Maybe he’d try to pull some off once he found Baekhyun again. 

_ Shit _ . He’d been trying hard to not think about Baekhyun, and it was proving to be an impossible task. Suddenly, a power nap sounded really appealing. 

Kai slipped his earbuds back in and said, “Whatever. Two hours. You’re lucky I don’t have homework.” 

Ten responded with a blinding grin and a cheeky wave and took off at an alarming speed for the building’s nearest exit. 

  
  


It was incredible how fast two hours could fly. Kai had done his best to slap together an outfit that didn’t scream, “I haven’t felt like myself in over two months, so don’t talk to me because I might cry,” and teleported himself into an empty bathroom stall on the south side of the Student Union building. And despite taking virtually no time to travel, Ten still managed to arrive before him. He was dressed in what were, in his words, his “you love to watch me walk away” jeans and a loose-fitting silky white shirt. Kai rolled his eyes at the small rolling suitcase that not-so-subtly clinked as they walked through Mark’s neighborhood. The lengths students on this “dry campus” went to just to hide their liquor never failed to amuse him. 

Mark’s driveway was no longer occupied by the gorgeous black car from his company, which was honestly a massive relief to Kai. If Kai’s dream was in any way a vision of the future, he could only hope that Mark wouldn’t be behind the wheel of that thing when it wound up totaled. It would be hard for someone to make it out of that alive. Kai suppressed a shiver at the thought and followed Ten up to the front door. 

They waited no more than a second after Ten’s knock before the door opened for them, as if Mark had been waiting patiently on the other side. Ten startled, which seemed unlike him, but before Kai could really take more note of it, the man composed himself and patted his suitcase eagerly. 

“Bro, you’re a lifesaver,” Mark said gleefully. “I had like basically no time between work and ordering takeout and—”

“I owed you one,” Ten said with a wave of his hand. He slipped expertly past Mark, kicking his shoes off in record time as he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Mark frowned down at the suitcase and said, more to Kai than anyone else, “I wouldn’t necessarily say that, but I’ll take it.” He gingerly pulled the suitcase inside like it contained explosives instead of an obscene amount of imported beer and soju. Kai shut the door behind him and watched Mark pull it into the kitchen. The combination of Taeyong and Ten’s voices, which could probably be heard from anywhere in the house, and the sound of late 2000s Western pop-rock playing from the next room should have made Kai feel welcome to come on inside and enjoy himself for a while, but he couldn’t move. He found himself standing there, doing his best to act like a normal person...doing his best to try and remember how social gatherings typically made him feel. He felt nothing. No rush of excitement from being surrounded by friendly humans. No delight at the knowledge that he could eat and drink to his heart’s content without spending his own money. No joy from the suggestion that maybe he could lose himself in distractions all night. He simply felt guilty. He felt helpless. Like a sailboat stuck in placid waters. 

“Jongin?” Ten’s voice dragged him back into reality for the second time in twenty-four hours. At least one of Kai’s human companions could ground him. At least he had someone he could rely on. (Though with recent revelations, Kai wondered exactly how human Ten actually was after all…)

He let out a sigh and smiled at his friend as if to say, “Yeah. I’m still here.” Ten gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher: was that a knowing glance? Or was it teasing? It sat strangely with him either way. 

“How about you go sit in the living room, huh? We’ll join you in a bit.” Ten pointed him in a direction and gave him a gentle nudge to set him in motion. 

Kai rounded the corner of the entryway and froze at the sight before him. The far side of the room was piled high with strange mechanical odds and ends, and the walls were bare save for the large TV mounted to his right. The last dregs of golden daylight poured into the room from Kai’s left, illuminating the most important part of the scene: Baekhyun, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, his hair overgrown and falling into his eyes a bit, and his posture rather dreadfully hunched as he tapped away at the slide-out keyboard on a brand-new-looking black and chrome mobile phone. 

The phone hit the ground as soon as Baekhyun looked up to see his company. The lights in the room went out with a loud series of pops. The yelp that came from the next room went ignored as Baekhyun winced and cursed.

Kai laughed. It was all he could do in the moment. Whatever caused it—relief or hysteria—turned the laughter into quiet sobs the moment Baekhyun scurried around the couch to hug him. They stayed like that for a long moment, basking in each other’s presence. 

“ _ Kai _ ,” Baekhyun muttered in their mother tongue, “ _ I’m so sorry I had to leave. They found me. I didn’t want to risk your safety— _ ”

“ _ It’s okay, it’s okay _ ,” Kai replied, his voice a bit more puny than he’d like. “ _ You can tell me all about it now. I’ve been safe. No one’s found me. _ ”

“ _ A few things you need to know first _ ,” Baekhyun mumbled as they pulled apart. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced up at Kai. “ _ Two of them know I’m an alien. _ ”

“ _ Two of whom? _ ” Kai stuttered out. Baekhyun nodded subtly towards the kitchen where their friends were trying way too hard to not look like they were watching the touching reunion. Mark was unboxing new lightbulbs as they spoke. 

“ _ Mark and Taeyong _ ,” Baekhyun stated. “ _ It was unavoidable. Sorry. _ ”

“ _ Do they also know…? _ ” Kai started.

“ _ I told Taeyong about you this afternoon, but I’m pretty sure he thought I was joking. _ ” Baekhyun laughed to himself. “ _ And I told Mark about the Red Force and the Tree of Life and all of that because he’s been sheltering me and helping me figure out how to control my powers around Earthly technology. It came up pretty early on. He knows there are more of us, but I didn’t divulge any of your identities in detail. Taeyong knows the basics of like...me being from somewhere else in space and what my gift does, but that’s it. _ ”

“ _ So Ten knows nothing _ ,” Kai supplied. 

“ _ As far as I know _ ,” Baekhyun said with a nod. He patted Kai on the shoulder and raised his voice to a much more casual tone as he switched languages. “Let’s celebrate, yeah? There’s food on the way, I heard you arrived with drinks, Mark has an incredible stereo setup…”

“And we’ll be able to see the buttons on said set-up as soon as  _ someone _ helps me change the lights!” Mark declared as he lugged a short ladder into the room. Baekhyun clapped his hands together to punctuate a quiet, “Right...sorry,” and gathered lightbulbs from the kitchen as Mark removed the duds from their sockets. 

Kai felt like he was dreaming as he wandered into the kitchen. A small cup of something found its way into his hands, and he downed it without a second thought. Ten’s laughter brought him back to reality. 

“Would you like a tissue, honey?” Ten asked, holding a box out for him. Kai nodded, quickly plucking three for himself. He knew the waterworks would take a bit to wind down, especially if he was going to keep drinking whatever that incredible citrus cocktail was. Apparently Ten had pulled out all the stops and brought much more than just beer and flavored soju with him in that suitcase. 

Kai turned to face Ten and Taeyong after wiping his tears away and bowed to them.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said as the two of them reacted with startled noises. “I understand the secrecy now. It means the world to me that you three would take his safety into such deep consideration—”

Ten’s hands pulled him back into a standing position. “Ehhh, Jongin, you don’t have to be like that. We’re just glad we could help you and your friend out.”

“You are very good friends,” Kai said, making sure to catch and hold Ten’s gaze as he did so. Many humans viewed eyes as the window to the soul, he’d learned early in his stay on Earth, and intentional eye contact usually served two important purposes: to intimidate someone or to make sure someone knew you spoke the truth. Ten blinked hard but didn’t shift his gaze for a long moment. Eventually, he laughed nervously and gently patted Kai’s shoulder.

“It’s the least we could do. Now drink a bit more. I need you to tell me if I mixed it as well as I did last time.” Ten poured more into Kai’s cup and shoved it towards him. Kai could see the barrier he was trying to put up between the two of them, and for a moment he was concerned that his eye contact had made the wrong point. The blush coloring Ten’s ears and cheeks didn’t appear to be put there by alcohol, however, so Kai held his tongue and rolled with the change in conversation by tipping back his entire shot all at once.

“It tastes good to me,” Kai said with a shrug. “To be honest, I barely remember what it tasted like last time.”

Ten laughed. “That’s the idea! So good you can’t remember it.”

Kai frowned, sure that he misunderstood a phrase somewhere in that, and took another drink in hopes that it would help him make more sense of it. Mark returned to the kitchen and Kai immediately turned to bow to him as he’d done with the others, but was interrupted by Baekhyun’s hand on his elbow. 

“Nonono, no need for that. He already knows we’re grateful.”

“But he hasn’t heard it from me yet,” Kai whined. Baekhyun laughed and gave him a hearty pat on the back as he reached for a drink of his own. Kai hadn’t realized exactly how much he’d missed his friend’s laugh until that moment. He felt a new small wave of emotion roll through his chest and covered his face in hopes that no one would notice him starting to cry again. His efforts were in vain. Ten and Taeyong cooed, and Baekhyun slung an arm around his shoulders and laughed some more. 

  
  


Kai was already well on his way to inebriation when the food arrived. He wouldn’t typically scarf down everything put in front of him like this, but he figured after the stress he’d been under for the past several weeks, he deserved to enjoy himself. Baekhyun stayed glued to his side and teased him incessantly about how much he’d have to dance to work off the carbs, and how much more he should drink because he kept having twenty-second crying fits throughout the night. (One of these days Kai was going to tell him off for that kind of unhealthy talk, but tonight he was too happy hearing his friend’s voice again to care.) 

Mark was an incredible host, from what Kai could tell, as well as an excellent DJ. About five minutes after their meal, Mark seemed to realize that he’d lost his phone. It had to be nearby, Taeyong had reasoned, because it was still playing music through the bluetooth speakers positioned around the room. So of course they all set out on a drunken quest to find it. 

Baekhyun had just helped Mark tip the couch over when the doorbell rang. Everyone glanced around at each other as if to ask, “Did you order something? Did you invite someone else?”

Kai made eye contact with Baekhyun and they seemed to come to the same realization at the same time. Maybe they’d been found. What if someone had actually found Kai? What if they’d just been keeping their distance, hoping he’d lead them to Baekhyun? It would have been a good way to kill two birds with one stone. Kai inconveniently recalled a human study about promising children they’d get a second treat if only they would be patient for a few minutes and not eat the first one right away. 

Where mere seconds ago there had been laughter and chatter filling the air, now there was only the grooving bass and playful melody pouring out of Mark’s speakers. The music suddenly felt very out of place—the only thing that carried on as if nothing was amiss while everyone else held their breath, tense with anticipation. Kai felt incredibly sober in that moment. 

Mark gestured for everyone to move to the far end of the living room, and everyone did their best to follow his instructions without causing a racket. After about thirty seconds, the visitor knocked instead. Mark steeled himself and approached the door. Kai tried to focus on breathing normally as he realized he was in the best position to prepare for the worst. He crept forward despite Ten and Taeyong’s silent protests and crouched behind the tipped over couch. If he could get himself a clear line of sight, he could be more accurate with his teleportation. He could see who was at the door and leap to Mark’s defense in an instant. Most importantly, he could buy the others time to hide or escape.

His blood ran cold as Mark took a deep breath and cracked the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *excerpts from wikipedia: "Geommu is a traditional sword dance practiced in Korea."  
> "The legend of Geommu states that a young boy in Silla named Hwangchang had an unusual talent for sword dance. His talent brought him great fame, even in the enemy kingdom, Baekje. One day, a king of Baekje invited him to his court to perform his great skill. The boy performed but in an act of great defiance killed the king before the royal assembly. Hwangchang was executed by the Baekje military. People in Shilla expressed their respect and sorrow at Hwangchang’s death by dancing in imitation of Hwangchang’s abilities, adorning a mask which was made to resemble his face. Thereafter, people named this dance 'Hwangchangmu.'"
> 
> \----
> 
> Missed you all. Hope you're healthy and safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to whatever this turns out to be! Hopefully updates will arrive weekly, but I'm notoriously unreliable when it comes to updating fanfiction--please forgive me. Rating and tags are subject to change.
> 
> Keeping this fic separate from my other works so I don't spam my other fandom followers with kpop mv fics, but if you're interested in my old writing (mostly for Supernatural), you can find it at redmasque right here on AO3! 
> 
> In case you want to interact outside of AO3, my tumblr url is exocinematicuniverse. 
> 
> If you like this chapter or any future updates, please let me know in the comments section!


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